


Let's Play Pretend (Until Reality Wakes Me Up)

by Embelom



Series: TommyInnit Centric Stuff! [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A DSMP AU but it's Tommy's daydream, Angst, Arguing, Attempt at Humor, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Author is a TommyInnit Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Maladaptive Day-Dreaming, No beta we die like Dream's clock, Older Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Protective Wilbur Soot, Self-Worth Issues, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, i abuse parenthesis and italics SO much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embelom/pseuds/Embelom
Summary: Tommy considers himself a happy person. Considering his odds, he does have it better than most people. He has a loving, although single, father, and two older brothers that he messes around with. Not to mention his best friend, who is always at his side no matter what- clingy, even, Tommy would say. But as of lately, it feels like the world is turning against him, helpless on not knowing what to do.It starts with a tempting, hesitant glance at his phone, thumb hovering over the play button on Spotify. Then, it turns to him putting his earbuds on and closing his eyes every now and again. He imagines going off to far away places- anywhere away from home- and he goes on adventures. He runs away from reality, and, in a blissful moment, successfully escapes.
Relationships: Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: TommyInnit Centric Stuff! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128683
Comments: 89
Kudos: 539





	1. It's Just a Small Dream, and It's Not so Bad, You See

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic for the MCYT and DSMP fandom(s)! I have a lot of fic ideas in mind (in which are all Tommy centric), and I cannot wait to write them all! However, this one was the first idea I had jotted down. 
> 
> This is me basically projecting and yearning for family dynamics, so heads up! 
> 
> This was also originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I changed my mind last minute to make it multi-chaptered, haha! This'll start out fun and bubbly at first, but the angst and hurt/comfort is coming, I promise. 
> 
> Happy reading!

“This movie is shit,” Tommy comments bluntly on the floor, popping a gummy worm into his mouth as the T.V continues to play. “Seriously, who directed this? An American? It’s complete rubbish.”

Wilbur, who is sitting directly behind Tommy on the couch, does a dramatic gasp. “What on earth do you _mean?_ The _Titanic_ is a great movie- it’s a classic! Even if it was made by an American, it’s still pretty fucking good.” He huffs, smacking his younger brother’s head with his hand lightly. 

As the blonde gives out a loud, _“Ow! What was the fuck?”_ , Techno, who is sitting besides Wilbur, rolls his eyes as he glances at the other two with an unamused expression. “Can you two quiet down so I can actually _enjoy_ the movie? You guys have been doing this for pretty much the whole thing.”

“Now, Techno, I _would_ ,” Wilbur’s tone starts off as innocent before glaring down at Tommy. “But this gremlin child keeps spewing on and on about how it’s bad when it’s _not_ . Isn’t it our job as, you know, older brothers to help _educate_ him? I’m helping, if anything.” 

“No, you’re not!” Exclaimed Tommy, trying to hit his older brother efficiently while still sitting down. “Just wait until Dad gets home- he’ll side with me! Right, Techno?” 

The eldest of the three merely turned away, focusing his attention back to the screen where the boat was sinking mercilessly. 

“ _Right, Techno?_ ”

“Silence, child.” 

Tommy let out a surprised, offended sputter as he now tried reaching out to Techno to hit him. Techno still seemed indifferent, however, even with Wilbur now breaking out into a fit of giggles and cackles. Tommy let out another puff of annoyance before retreating back to his original spot and looking at the television once more. 

He’ll never admit this outloud to his family, of course, but Tommy missed moments like this, when it was just between the three of them. He wished his father could join them, though- their Dad was an absolute pleasure to be around with, and they all loved him dearly. But then again, this was most likely the best bet he could do with casually being with his family for a long time, probably. With Techno always being cooped up in his room for studies, Wilbur either writing new songs or going out with his friends, and their father working a lot with his new promotion, there wasn’t any time, really. 

Tommy would usually hang out with Tubbo when he got bored- considering they were best friends. But Tubbo had a life, too- as much as they’re attached at the hip, and sometimes he had to remind himself of that. Tubbo has a similar family to Tommy’s, surprisingly enough- consisting of two older siblings and a single father as well. However, the fine line between the two was that Tubbo’s family had the _time_ and _wanted_ to hang out with each other. Tubbo’s family made _time_ for him. 

The blonde blinked a few moments as the thought- _what_ ? Why did he think that? He wasn’t angry, or bitter about it. He _wasn’t_ , really. He understood- even if he was just sixteen, and, frankly, immature, he still understood why they do what they do. Wilbur likes to socialize, and he adores music with his whole heart and more. Techno, ever the level headed, puts logic over emotion, busy with college essays and lectures. And Phil- his father— works a bit overtime to provide for three kids, even though two out of the three are legally adults, with them insisting on helping to pay. However, Phil had always declined with a soft smile saying, “I enjoy taking care of you guys- don’t worry about it”. 

He _understood_. 

(But that didn’t mean it hurt any less). 

Tommy let out a small sigh- it felt a bit uncomfortable now to be around his brothers with those thoughts in his head. A small feeling of guilt started to crawl through his stomach, but he tried to ignore it. He ignored the voice in his head that told him to stop thinking like that, that his family didn’t deserve that sort of disrespect and treatment. Letting out a small hum, the young boy stood up, catching the attention of the older two. 

“Well, gents, I’m gonna head back to my room now. It was nice watching your dumb movie, Wilbur, but I-” Tommy stopped in his tracks for a moment. “-have to get back to doing my homework and studying- all of that good stuff. I’ll catch you two later.” And with that, the youngest of three was off. 

As the teen turned on his heel, heading up the stairs to the second floor where all of their bedrooms were, Techno and Wilbur momentarily stopped watching the movie to glance at one another. Some might call it “twin telepathy”, but they just knew each other that well to figure out what the other was thinking with the other just being in the same room. Wilbur’s usual playful expression was now replaced with one of confusion and slight worry, sparing a look at the ceiling for a moment before drawing his attention back to his twin. 

_“Do you think he’s alright?”_ Wilbur’s eyes seemed to ask. 

Techno, although face stoic, held some softness in his expression. “ _He’ll be fine_ . _It’s probably nothing._ ” He reassured silently, but as Techno turned to look at the movie, now with the beginning of the credits rolling, he couldn’t help but notice that his brother’s behavior _was_ quite odd. 

The long-haired man shook his head subtly. He’ll take a mental note of it- perhaps he’ll discuss it with Phil later.

  
  
  


_—Ω—_

  
  
  


_Slam!_

Tommy let out a muffled groan as he shoved his face into his hands. Alright, not one of his best moments, but he could work with it. He _definitely_ didn’t mean to leave so suddenly. He had no reason to. Nonetheless, it was done and most likely, his brothers would forget what happened. They would probably shove it aside, dubbing it as another one of Tommy’s new weird quirks. 

The blonde teen looked around his room- it was still messy as hell. His bed was still unkept and not made, although he should probably get on that already. On his bed was his large backpack, the zipper open which made papers and folders alike slowly slip out. From his window, he could see the night sky once he turned on the lights (shit, was it _that_ late?). His P.C was turned off, and his headphones and charger had somehow ended up on the floor. Tommy sighed, taking his phone out of his back pocket and flopping onto his bed next to his bag. Quickly, he unlocked his phone, scrolling through the various apps before tapping on _Discord_ and pressing on Tubbo’s icon. Tubbo, at the moment, was offline, but maybe a quick message wouldn’t hurt. 

**TommyInnit 8:22 PM**

_hey_

_Do u wanna VC?_

Tommy waited, staring at his screen for a moment before, a couple minutes later, Tubbo’s circle next to his icon turned green. Tommy felt a small smile creep onto his lips- good, he was still awake, then. He needed someone to keep him company. 

**Tubbo 8:29 PM**

_hi! :)_

_sorry man can't tonight :(_

_hanging out w niki and eret and dad atm!_

_we can do one later tmrw tho if thats ok?_

Tommy tried to suppress the disappointment that he instantly felt, frown etching on his face before he sighed. That was fine— it was fine, why was he being so clingy right now? This isn't like him at all. 

**TommyInnit 8:31 PM**

_No worries man_

_hope you have fun_

  
  


**Tubbo 8:31 PM**

_thx!_

Now, he had nothing to do. 

Great. 

It was currently a Friday, and he _did_ get most of his work done. Not to mention that he wasn't particularly in the mood to do that, thank you. Gingerly, he started to scroll through his various other apps before getting more utterly bored. Tommy grumbled under his breath once more, glancing out of his window every now and then, looking out for Phil’s car. However, there wasn't anything new outside, much to his displeasure. 

What on earth does he do now? 

There was no way in _hell_ he was going to bother Techno. He’s probably doing something more important, anyways, like school or something nerdy. And if Tommy were to interrupt his brother while he was working, well, then that was just a death wish. It was incredibly known between everyone in the household that absolutely nobody besides Phil could disturb Techno during his work. Tommy didn't know how Phil does it, honestly, it must be a pain in the ass. Didn’t Techno ever get bored of just pure studying? He would never understand him- who finds joy in _studying_? 

Downstairs, he could hear Wilbur coming up the stairs. His deep voice echoed through the halls, although muffled. Tommy could only pick up bits and pieces of what the other was saying, but it seemed like Wilbur was talking with someone on the phone. Something about how anteaters and frogs and how they were stupid. Tommy let out a muffled laugh, covering his mouth with his hand slightly before shaking his head fondly at the agitated tone of his voice. Although, that _did_ mean that he was most likely on the phone with one of his friends- something that, like Techno, he didn’t like to be interrupted with. 

“They’re complete shut-ins,” Tommy says out loud to himself, snorting. “I swear. Is it a twin thing? Must be- it’s the only thing they have in common, anyways. Other than also being huge jerks.”

Despite being twins, Techno and Wilbur rarely had any similarities between themselves. Whilst Wilbur was more extroverted, Techno tended to keep to himself and opted to stay silent and monotone. Whereas Wilbur would pick up many hobbies that he wanted to try and, sometimes, stick to, Techno would rather take maybe one or two hobbies and stay loyal to them. Techno, despite his personality, liked to compete in combat, while Wilbur would rather stick to music most of the time, even writing his own original works and uploading them, if he remembers correctly. Tommy thinks he could recall a time where- 

Wait, backtrack. 

He could do something with this. 

Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever actually _listened_ to Wilbur’s songs properly before. Sure, sometimes the older boy would maybe hum some snippets of them, if they were lucky, but otherwise, he kept his music career pretty quiet. Sometimes, though, Tommy would catch him singing softly in his room, strumming his guitar. Other times, he would be grumbling in frustration about a lyric. Knowing his brother, he’d probably write songs that were disgustingly angsty– or at least that’s how he was like a few years back, Tommy remembers. Or well, that’s how Tommy imagined it. The boy laughed again, a spitting image of Wilbur yelling his heart out to a microphone inserting itself into his mind. Now, that would be _amazing_ for blackmail. If only such footage existed, if only. 

Swiftly, Tommy scrolled through his screen, tapping on Spotify _._ He decided that _surely_ Wilbur wouldn’t be stupid enough to insert his full name as his Spotify account name- surely not. Just in case, though, it didn’t hurt to type in, _Wilbur Watson_ in the search bar just for safety measure. Luckily, his brother wasn’t under that name, thank god, or else he most likely would have gotten a stern talk from Phil. On another note, Tommy knew that it wouldn’t work- Wilbur wouldn’t, but it would have been awfully funny if he did. In another life, maybe. However… he could try his middle name, which was most likely that it would be put to use. Techno and Tommy had some odd middle names, to say the least- Tommy’s being “Innit” (Tommy was told that Wilbur had come up with it, and Phil had ridiculously took in the suggestion) and Techno’s was “Blade”, while Wilbur was stuck with the very normal “Soot”. Tommy had noticed that, on social media, he and his brothers tended to use their middle names more often than not. In their defense, they have a nice ring to it.

And so, he typed in, _Wilbur Soot_ into the search bar. When he pressed enter, a flood of songs entered his vision. He hit the jackpot alright. Looking at the first icon of people that came up, he could certainly say that was his brother. But what even _is_ that shot? It’s a close-up on his brother. He’s smiling, teeth showing, as he held a spray bottle to his head. He looks completely out of it. Absently, Tommy wonders where he took the photo and _who_ took it. 

“He looks so out of it,” Tommy comments idly, squinting down at the image. “Is he fuckin’ high?” 

Scrolling down on Wilbur’s profile, he found a surprisingly abundance of songs- even albums, for that matter. There were...quite a lot of songs listed there, too, much more than Tommy had anticipated. His blue eyes traveled down the screen, skimming over the titles of the songs while peering into the albums. From what he could see from the app, it looked like his brother was getting a lot of good feedback for his music as well. Tommy felt a small feeling of pride well up in him, finding himself automatically smiling. As much as he dubbed Wilbur being “edgy”, his brother had a lot of talent; who wouldn't be excited for his recognition? He deserved it, in all honesty. 

Tommy leaned his upper half onto the floor for a moment to yank his headphones off of the ground, plugging them into his phone instantly. As he put the earbuds into his ears, he tapped onto a random song. Glancing down at the title, he saw that the text read, “I’m in Love with an E-Girl”. He gave a small chuckle at the title, readying himself to make some sort of mental commentary. 

Although….it felt comforting, the soft sounds of Wilbur’s guitar ringing through Tommy’s head. It’s like someone flipped a lever in his mind. Anything he could have focused on in that moment was out of his head at once, replaced with the guitar strums and soft vocals. He allows himself to close his eyes subconsciously, humming along to the song. In the back of his mind, he can almost feel himself slipping, unaware that he has stood up from his bed. 

  
  
  


_Tommy finds himself wandering around in a wheat field. He feels the crops gently graze his legs while they dance with the wind. He looks around- the sky is clear, and a hill is to his left. There’s a person on the hill- they’re sitting down with their legs crossed, waving at him. He feels his lips turn up as he runs towards the person, recognizing them as he draws closer. When he gets to him, he stands next to his friend, opting to look down at him. Tubbo, however, peacefully still has his eyes settled on the crops, eyes never leaving them._

_“You know,” Tubbo starts, voice content. “I never thought we’d see the day where we’d actually...actually escape- I’d always think we’d never leave there. It’s nice here, though. I think we’re making some serious progress, Tommy.” He looks up, beaming at his best friend._

_Tommy simply nods down at him. “Right? It’s about time that green bitch stops bothering us. What was his deal, anyways? Terrorizing a bunch of minors? Damn, someone needs to get a hobby or some shit.” He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms._

_Tubbo laughs at that, bringing up his hand to semi-cover it. “Literally. Also bringing his friends to come along as well? Now that’s just plain overkill.” He shakes his head slightly in bemusement. “But we got away, didn’t we? And that’s all that matters. It’s so much...quieter here.”_

_“Well, I’d say so, compared to constant war and fighting,” Tommy says bluntly. “It wasn’t a bad idea, running away. We got this all to ourselves! We’re all free and shit! Like a bird!”_

_“Like a bird,” Tubbo repeats, playfulness in his tone before his gaze lands on something. “Wait. Tommy, don’t tell me you built...a cobblestone tower?”_

_Tommy raises a brow. “What about it?”_

_“Man, no offense, but your cobblestone towers are complete shit,” Tubbo snorts, letting out a yelp when Tommy lightly kicks his back with his foot. “Ow! Hey, hey, don’t hit me because it’s true!”_

_“I’d like to see you build something better, Tubbo! I have taste, unlike you. Cobblestone towers are fucking amazing, thank you very much.”_

_Tubbo’s expression turns deadpanned as he slowly looks away from Tommy’s god forsaken tower to turn to him. “I built our house, Tommy. Our very well-made, two story house, not including the basement. I also made the farm, and I literally did all of the decorating.”_

_“I did some decorating! You just wouldn’t let me- you literally got rid of any of my contributions.” Tommy accuses, pointing a finger at the brunette._

_“Because you have a rubbish sense of interior design,” Tubbo continues smoothly. “Who the hell thinks that obsidian goes well with bricks and wood? It’s madness, really.”_

_“It is_ not! _” Tommy gasps, acting offended, but they both know there is no actual heat behind his words. “It would have looked fucking badass! I found this place, anyways, so I should get to have some say in the house design, don’t you think?”_

_Tubbo shakes his head instantly. “No, I don’t think. Please stick to the paths, I am begging you, Tommy, please, spare my eyes.”_

_“Oh, shut up!” Tommy kicks him lightly once more, but a laugh escapes his mouth._

_They share more jokes and laughs, and Tommy, his legs getting tired, eventually settles down besides Tubbo. They don’t move from their spot for a long time. They both look at the wheat field, watching the sun slowly descend lower and lower until it completely disappears from their view, nighttime taking the sky’s reins. Even then, they refuse to move from their spot, perfectly stargazing with each other. Tommy feels safe here, with his friend. They’ve run away. Nothing could hurt them now- nothing could ever hurt them now. From the beginning, it was them versus the world, no matter what happened. After all, they were both two kids- they deserved some peace and uiter in their lives for once in their life, didn’t they? No more fighting. No more wars. No more discs. No more deaths. No more sacrifices. No more government. Everything was alright now. Tommy wouldn’t change a thing._

_But then, a thought hits him._

_“Hey, Tubbo?”_

_“Mhm?”_

_“Do you think….do you think they’ll be alright without us?”_

_“Them?”_

_“Pogtopia. You know, and Wilbur...Techno...do you think they miss us?”_

_Tubbo fell silent for a few moments, thinking, before piping up again carefully. “I mean...yeah, I would hope so. We were their friends, right? Surely they would. But at the same time, I think we needed this, Tommy.” He started to pick at the grass. “It….it became too much, I think. We’re just kids.”_

_“We’re not-” Tommy opened his mouth to object, yet fell silent immediately. He was right- they_ were _just kids- for Notch’s sake, they were only sixteen. “...Shit, when did you become so smart, Tubbo? Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?” He joked, trying to lighten up the situation from the seriousness of the topic._

_“Shut up, what are you talking about? I’ve always been this wise and intelligent.” Tubbo grinned._

_Tommy made a “pfft'' sound, momentarily forgetting what he was about to say before it dawned on him again. His face instantly fell with the realization. “Tubbo, do you think that….that Wilbur’ll be alright?”_

_“Wilbur?” Tubbo echoed, voice full of puzzlement before his eyes widened. “Oh-_ oh. _Tommy, you remember what you told me, right? I mean….that was one of the reasons we ran off, isn’t it?”_

_“Yeah, but, well,” Tommy squirmed slightly. “Tubbo, he….he’s not the same. It’s like he’s gone crazy! He wants to blow it all up, Tubbo. He’s completely insane. He’s become so paranoid, and- I just…” The blonde sighed, hating how he was tripping over his words. “I just want him back to normal.”_

_Tubbo turned to him, eyes soft as he placed a hand on the other’s shoulder. “He’ll be alright. We did….we did remember to place that warning, right? To the others? I’m sure they’re trying to convince and confront him right now.” He offered hopefully. “It’s been, what, two weeks since we left? They’ve probably gotten rid of all the explosives by now.”_

_“I really hope you’re right,” Tommy’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “If we go back and everything’s in ruins, I’m going to be so fucking pissed.” He tried to laugh it off, but it was more of a front than anything. They’ve worked so hard to make that land theirs. They put so many hours into building their revolution from the ground up. There were so, so many battles, so much fighting- both verbally and physically. If it all went down the drain...if he and Tubbo arrived back to their country, finding it in just rubble and fallen debris?_

_Tommy isn’t quite sure what he would do._

_The younger took a deep breath, trying to get rid of those thoughts for now. There was no time for such thoughts- this was supposed to be their get-away-place. Just he and Tubbo. They’ll be alright- they have to be. The duo spent quite a lot of time getting a decent distance from the SMP, riding on horseback. However, they kept having to relocate, due to a certain masked man hunting them down for whatever reason._

_Tommy could never make out clearly what he was saying due to his own yelling and Tubbo’s- frantic and panicked, screaming at the top of their lungs to run. But Tommy could pick up something about having them for leverage from what he could hear. And like_ hell _Tommy would let Dream, of all people, use him and Tubbo like some sort of blackmail- he wouldn’t allow it. Eventually, though...Dream’s appearances started to become less and less frequent with how farther they ran. To say the least, the both of them were thankful for that, but an unsaid question of “why now?” sat between them._

_With a clear of his throat, Tommy started to stand up, cracking his bones as he stretched. “Fucking hell, ow. Holy shit, how long have we even been here? An hour?”_

_“Around three, I think,” Tubbo hummed, following Tommy’s lead and standing up as well. “You think it’s time to catch some sleep?”_

_“_ Please _,” Tommy groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I feel like I’m about to fucking pass out. I don’t want to curse you to carry me back with your small, little arms.”_

_Tubbo’s eyes flickered to him. “What, are you saying I’m not strong?”_

_“Tubbo, my friend, don’t get me wrong, but you are literally built like a twig. I feel like anyone could fight you, and they would win.”_

_“Hey!”_

_Tommy laughed again, pushing Tubbo good-naturedly, laughing even harder when he dodged a swipe from the other in retaliation. Tommy quickly turned on his heel, running down the hill and towards their home through the wheat field, Tubbo hot on his tail. Tommy was shouting- a collaboration of curses and swears in his yells as Tubbo was trying to catch up with him. Funnily enough, Tubbo was much slower than his friend, which ended with Tubbo trying to throw some stray seeds at the blonde. Tommy cackled more, swerving past the pelts of seeds coming his way and trying to get to their house in time, seeking refuge in it._

_He could still hear Tubbo’s gleeful laughter, even after things started to fade out from his vision._

  
  
  
  
  


“Tommy?” 

The boy in question blinked furiously, catching himself staring at his wall, his body in an...odd position. He was tip-toeing with only his right foot, which was in front of his other. He had both of his arms laid out in the air delicately, and his breaths were slightly heavy, like he had been exercising. His feet hurt, and, _ew-_ was that sweat running down his back? He definitely needed to take a shower soon. The hums of guitar strings still rang in his ears. Looking down, he saw that the song on his phone had changed- now, it was playing “For Memories”, another song composed by his brother. It was nearing the end of the song as well, seeing as there were only around thirty seconds left of it. 

“Tommy, you in here?” 

The boy snapped himself out of his small daze at the repeat of Techno’s down-to-earth, deep voice and a knock following afterwards. He quickly paused Wilbur’s music and took out the earbuds, placing them and his phone onto his bed before he went to answer the door. When he opened it, Tommy could see an, as always, stone-faced Techno staring right back at him. He had his glasses on now, Tommy noticed, and his hair was now in a neat braid that curled up over his shoulder. 

“Techno! To what do I owe the pleasure, my good friend?” Tommy answered easily, clapping his hands together. “Thought you’d be, like, all cooped up in your room and shit.” 

Techno ignored the comment. “Dad called you down for dinner almost ten minutes ago. You never came down, so he sent me up here to get you.” 

“Wha- dinner?” Tommy blinked. Was it that late? “And, wait- fuck- Dad’s home? Why’d no one tell me?” 

“Yes, dinner,” Techno sighed. “And yes, Dad’s home. Now come _on_ , let’s get downstairs before he eventually sends Wilbur up, too.” 

Tommy did a mock-salute before proceeding to march past the pink-haired man. “Aye, aye, captain! Whatever you say.” 

When they made it downstairs and into the dining room, Tommy could see that Wilbur was already eating. Phil, however, was sitting patiently, smiling at Techno and Tommy when they showed themselves and giving a small wave. Techno just gave a tiny nod in Phil’s direction before sitting down, Tommy doing the same. As soon as he sat, Phil mde eye contact with him. 

“I’m glad you finally decided to join us, mate,” He greeted, no anger in his words- just gentleness. “How’s your day been? I’ve barely seen you today. What have you been up to?”

Tommy paused. “Uh, nothing much,” He replied lamely. “My day’s been well, though. How was work?”  
  


As his father opened his mouth to talk, Tommy started to space out in his own thoughts. _What_ exactly had happened back there? It was like he was aware of two realities happening at once. The first one, being him standing in his room and listening to music, and the second one being of the visual he had of himself and Tubbo. It was like he had written his own story and acted it out, only returning back to the real world when he was needed. It was...scary, though. He missed so much in what felt like a few minutes. He’d miss Phil coming home, he missed already the beginning of dinner- did anything else happen while he was in his own little daydream? What time was it, even? He didn’t even think to check the time when Techno had come in- how much longer did he have until he needed to sleep? 

But at the same time, it felt...nice. Relieving. It was like for a split second, any worries, concerns, or problems he may have had were lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to run free to wherever he desired. He was hyper-aware of what he had just come up with- it was like his imagination was creating things left and right for him. However, it was welcoming. It was exciting, dare he say, having a sense of adventure course through his veins with just him and Tubbo out in the wilderness, with the possibility of someone hunting them down.

The funny thing is, though, it was rather peaceful rather than excellerating. If Tommy concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the goosebumps appearing on his arms after getting inside after being outside in the night for hours on end. And even though his feet hurt like hell, he wanted to feel like that again- at peace. He wanted that feeling of calm and content back- he wanted to go back. He felt wanted. Not that he didn’t feel it here, of course, but...his family was, well, busy. They had their own problems, and Tommy really shouldn’t add to that. But there, he felt _needed_ , like that was a world of his own and he was the main character. It was like a sacred haven that only Tommy knew of, a sacred haven where he could do whatever he pleased and be whoever he wanted to be.

Perhaps he’ll see if he can go back once dinner is over. 

The boy decides to start to tune back into the conversation that is happening in front of him. Phil had stopped talking about his job, voice replaced with Wilbur’s quite irritated one. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy could see Techno nodding along to whatever Wilbur was saying, butting into the conversation now and again to add his own comments. Phil was smiling still, but he looked confused and tired at the same time, turning his head to Wilbur with an almost exasperated expression. It was like he couldn’t believe what his son was spewing. 

“Wil, anteaters are not fucking _evil_ ,” Phil stresses, as if he has been continuously saying this. _Maybe he has_ , Tommy thinks- it’s not like he knew. “They’re cute!” 

Wilbur looks genuinely offended, much to Tommy’s amusement. “How could you say that? They are not _cute._ They’re so fucking disgusting, Dad, they are an abomination upon this world, and each and every one of them should be fucking exterminated. I will stand by that for the rest of my life; no one can sway my opinion. Scratch that- it isn’t an opinion, it is a _fact_. They are evil, cruel, and if they could, Dad, I swear to fuck, any sort of horrid thing you can come up with, they would do it and then laugh in your face.” 

“You are literally getting heated over anteaters,” Techno raises an eyebrow at his twin, voice flat. “Do they start governments or somethin’?” 

Wilbur nods firmly. “Yes! Yes, they do! And they’re dictators at that!” 

“Welp,” Techno shrugs in a ‘what-can-you-do’ manner. “Then I’m on Wil’s side, sorry Dad. Down with the government, you know how it is. Imagine making a country full of dictators, what losers.”

Phil turns his attention to Techno, voice and face pleading. “Techno, mate, anteaters don’t have governments- Wil, where are you even getting these ideas? The anteaters have done nothing to you. Leave the poor animals be.” He sighed. 

Wilbur catches a glance in Tommy’s direction, and Tommy only had the time to think ‘ _oh no_ ’ in his head before his brother went on to drag him into the mess. “Tommy, back me up here! You agree, don’t you?”

Tommy just snorts, missing the look that Wilbur and Techno share before making a noise of agreement. “Of course, big man! Dad, you’re outnumbered, you need to accept defeat. Anteaters are fucking monsters, I tell you! Monsters! They cannot be trusted at all.” 

“ _See_?” Wilbur says in an exaggerated tone. “Even the child gets it!” 

“It’s because of his old brain, Wilbur,” Tommy inputs, making a loud sniffing noise as he wipes away a fake tear. “Our father has been tainted by the anteaters, there’s no saving him. The anteaters saw his brain and tainted him! It’s too late, Wil, he’s too far gone.” 

Phil just blinks at his youngest. “What the actual fuck are you talking about? Tommy-” 

“No!” Wilbur yells dramatically, promptly interrupting Phil . “It can’t be! I could still give him my list of everything I hate about anteaters, maybe that will persuade him.” 

“You have a list about everything you hate about anteaters?” Techno questions. “How...I’m almost scared to ask how long that took you.” 

“Not very long, I can assure you,” Wilbur smiles, placing a hand on his heart. “It all comes naturally to me, you know. I think about those- those _vile beasts_ and my brain instantly drops down my reasons.” 

Phil shakes his head. “ _No-_ no, you do not need to get your list, Wilbur. Can we please, for Christ’s sake, change the topic? I do not want to feed into Wilbur’s rants even more than I have to.”

Tommy let out a small laugh before standing up from the table, putting his glass onto his plate before heading to the sink. “Shit, Wil, they’ve really gotten to his head! We’ll have to perform an exorcism or something soon.” He spoke loudly, putting the dishes in before coming back to the dining room. “Anyways, I’m heading back to my room. I’ve got big man stuff to do, you know!” 

“Care to elaborate?” Techno looks at him suddenly, staring. 

“Nope!” Tommy shuts down instantly. “It’s- uh, top secret shit! Very important! Now if you excuse me, I _really_ need to get going, bye! Thanks for dinner, Dad.” 

“You’re welcome, Tommy, but–” But before Phil could even finish, Tommy’s left again, promptly leaving before anyone could stop him. The blonde sighed again, a small sense of worry taking over his brain. Tommy wasn’t the only one acting strange, he had noticed over the course of the time he was here. He could tell that Wilbur and Techno kept looking at each other, then at Tommy, like they were having some sort of silent conversation. Admittedly, Phil was worried. When you have a home of three children- those children in question being _his_ children in particular, the house was usually chaotic and loud. He couldn’t help but notice that everything was so quiet, though- call it a father’s instinct, if you will. 

Phil hoped he was overreacting- maybe the three of them were just having a bad day?

The man leaned back into his seat a bit, now looking down at his twin boys, who had fallen into an awkward silence. They were doing it again- having conversations silently with their eyes, looking at the stairs and then back at each other. 

_Just a bad day,_ Phil assured himself. _There’s nothing to worry about._


	2. If It's a Delusion, Who Am I To Care?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Tubbo stumble upon a certain lost enderman boy who ran into their property. After a lot of convincing, they manage to bring him to their home to patch him up. 
> 
> Meanwhile, in the real world, Tommy starts to detach a little bit more and go deep into thought about his family, jealousy pooling into his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goodness! This is far later than I hoped I could post! It's a bit shorter as well, so I apologize for that, too! But thank you to all of you who left a kudo, bookmark, and comment! I enjoy reading and responding to them so much, and they fill me with so much serotonin and happiness, knowing that even just a few people enjoy this fic! 
> 
> Anyways, I'll let you pass onto the chapter! I sincerely hope you guys enjoy, even if it's a bit short!
> 
> (Good news, though: I'm planning for the third chapter to be out soon, too! So be on a look out for that!)

_ “This is...worrying,” Tubbo finally spoke up, frowning as he looked down at the stranger. “Is he alright?”  _

_ Tommy scoffed, eyes narrowing and untrustful. “Don’t know, and, frankly, don’t care. We don’t even know him! For all we know, he could be with Dream.” He spat out, paranoia seeping into his tone.  _

_ “You sound...you sound awfully like Wilbur right now,” Tubbo mumbled, his voice quiet, but Tommy heard it, flinching. “Sorry, it’s just...well, you know. But moving on, it- I don’t think he’s with Dream. He doesn’t even have that much armor or weapons with him…”  _

_ Tommy crossed his arms, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, but...let’s just be wary, alright? He looks...weird; I don’t trust him. He literally came out of fucking nowhere! Out of thin air, Tubbo, thin air!”  _

_ At the obvious exaggeration in his friend’s tone, Tubbo’s lips curled up into a small smile. “I know, I know, I saw! Do you think he’s half enderman and teleported? I mean, hybrids aren’t that uncommon, and it would explain the black half of his skin and hair, wouldn’t it?”  _

_ “True, but what about the white bit? D’you think he’s an experiment gone rogue? Like in the stories?” Tommy guessed, peering over the lanky boy to take the crown on his head. “Must’ve treated him well if he has this thing. Kinda reminds me of Tech’s crown.”  _

_ Tubbo shrugged. “I dunno, beats me. Maybe we should ask him when he wakes up.”  _

_ “Nah,” Tommy shook his head. “You know what we do? We tie ‘im up and threaten him! Good cop bad cop style, yeah?”  _

_ “I mean…” Tubbo looked on in thought, actually considering this. “We could. But I don’t really think we should actually hurt him unless he gives us reason to. That seems reasonable, doesn’t it? I mean, he did come onto our lawn.”  _

_ Tommy let out a big whoop in response. “Hell yeah! I’m stealing his crown, too, by the way. It’s now officially mine, and I am not sorry.” He smirked, placing the crown atop his head, although it seemed a smidge too big for him, making it fall slightly.  _

_ “Don’t you think we should give it back, though?” _

_ “Pssh, no. What are you on about? You know the rules, Big T, finders kee-”  _

_ A soft groan came from the boy’s living room couch, making Tommy stop in his tracks to take a look at the boy. It had been a few more days since he and Tubbo had made this place their home. They were outside, getting ready to call it a night after having gone into the mines for a while when they found a complete stranger collapsed in their wheat field.  _

_ The fellow was...odd, in Tommy’s opinion. He had mismatched skin and hair of black and white, which slightly longer, pointier ears than a regular human. His crown tilted on his head from, presumably, his fall, and his suit was dirty. Tubbo, upon encountering him, and some debating with Tommy, got the boy in their home, propping him onto their couch. It was quite an effort- he was  _ freakishly  _ tall, and from Tommy, that’s saying a lot, considering his older brothers are practically  _ mountains _ in height. When they had him on the couch, he started to mumble in his sleep, something Tommy would try to get closer to get a better listen on for blackmail if he was sure that this guy wasn’t faking his collapse, ready to shank him.  _

_ As of now, the boy was taking deep breaths, as if to calm himself internally- he still hadn’t opened his eyes. However, when he did, the duo beside him were met with the shocking, vibrant heterochromia eyes of green and red. He started to mumble to himself, bringing up his hands to his field of vision as he sat up. It looked like he didn’t quite process what was happening, his voice getting louder to an extent that Tommy and Tubbo could hear him. The duo themselves were standing still, sharing a look with one another, unsure of what to do.  _

_ “What on earth…” The stranger’s voice was deep, and, weirdly, sounded like Techno, if Tommy listened hard enough. “My memory book- where is my-” He patted himself down in a slight panic before looking around, eyes clouding in confusion and warriness in an instant. “...This isn’t...this isn’t the- this isn't my… so what-” And then, his gaze fell onto Tommy and Tubbo.  _

_ “Is...uh, is that my crown you’re wearing?”  _

_ “No!” Tommy huffed. “It’s mine now, bitch.”  _

_ “I...okay?” The way the stranger said it, it sounded more like a question than a statement. Tommy almost felt bad- the poor guy was a pushover.  _

_ Tubbo glanced back at Tommy, humming to himself. “Well, if he says it's fine, I want a go at the crown. I think it’ll look rather nice on me, don't you think?”  _

_ “Get your own crown!”  _

_ “Hello?” The stranger interrupted, seeming a bit more grounded and calm now. “Excuse me, but could you both tell me where I am?”  _

_ Tommy sharply looked at the other. “A drug shed!” He exclaimed, mouth moving before his brain could think. “You're in a drug shed. And we’re gonna fucking mug you if you don't tell us why you were snooping around on our lawn, bitch-boy.”  _

_ The stranger blinked owlishly, as if trying to wrap his head around the situation. “Drug...shed?” He repeated slowly. “This looks more like a house, though.”  _

_ Tommy waved a hand dismissively. “Drug shed! You know what, pal, you are really getting on my nerves with you and your constant talking. You sound just like Techno with your voice and your questions, you know that? Don't correct me ever again, bitch, do you  _ want  _ to pass out again?”  _

_ “Tommy!” Tubbo intervened, sending an apologetic glance towards the stranger, although it looked like the brunette was amused by his friend’s actions. “So sorry about him. But to be fair, you did sort of pass out on our property.”  _

_ “I'm really sorry,” The stranger apologized, sounding sincere. “I didn't know that anyone was here- not to mention that people lived here. So, if you two could let me go, that’d be—”  _

_ “Nope!” Tommy shook his head furiously. “Didn't you hear us earlier? Man, we’re here to fucking mug you and shit! Give us your shit!”  _

_ The stranger wrung his hands together. “I...don't have much on me, sorry. One of the only things that were valuable that I had was my memory book, but I...lost it.” He furrowed his brows.  _

_ “Memory book?” Tubbo piped up. “Maybe it's in the ground outside? We could go look for you, if you want.” He offered.  _

_ “Wha-” Tommy turned sharply to his friend. “Tubbo! We’re supposed to take advantage and leverage, not help ‘im! You're a horrible mugger.”  _

_ Tubbo sent a quizzical look to the other. “No, I'm just being nice. Look, I really doubt that he-” The brunette pointed at the stranger with his thumb. “-could take us. He said he had nothing, right? If he tries to fight us, we actually have weapons. And…”  _

_ Tommy watched as Tubbo spared a small glance at the (presumably) hybrid. He watched as his best friend’s eyes softened, his expression following suit.  _

_ Did Tubbo- was Tubbo pitying him?  _

_ But Tubbo doesn't pity- that's not who he is- so what-  _

_ “...he’s just like us, isn't he?” Tubbo says, snapping Tommy from his thoughts. “He looks to be our age. And, you know, if something happened...the roles could have been reversed, you know? I don't think we can turn him away, Tommy. Just...trust me on this, alright?” _

_ Tommy made a frustrated noise. “I do trust you, it's just that…” He sighed. “...I don't want us to get hurt. Not again. But- you know what? Fine. He can stay. But just so you know.” He suddenly faced the stranger, face hardening.  _

_ “If you ever so much dare fuck us over, I'll fucking shank the living hell out of you, you hear me? You still look pretty fucking shady to me, popping in out of nowhere, bitch, but if Tubbo trusts you, then I trust you.”  _

_ The stranger blinked again, looking a bit overwhelmed by everything that was happening. “I...thank you.” He murmured. “But- ah, if I'm staying- for a while, at least, shouldn't we, uh, introduce ourselves? I still don't know who you guys are. But...I'm Ranboo.”  _

_ “Ranboo?” Tommy repeated, the word feeling alienated on his tongue. “That's a weird fuckin’ name. Like, Ranboob?”  _

_ As Tubbo let out a surprised snicker besides him, Ranboo just groaned. “No! No- please do not pronounce it that way. You...don't want to know how many times people have called me that.”  _

_ “People have- what?” Tubbo managed between his giggles. “Oh- oh my, that is fantastic. But- anyways,” He cleared his throat, trying to gather his composure. “For a formal introduction, I'm Tubbo, and this is Tommy. Nice to meet you.”  _

_ “Yeah, sorry about, you know, trying to mug you and shit.” Tommy shrugged casually before going over to sling an arm around the other’s neck. “But that's all behind us, eh? We’re all friends now!” And then, under his breath- “Holy shit how tall is this bitch I can barely reach his neck-”  _

_ Ranboo laughed awkwardly, sending Tubbo a look that seemed akin to a desperate cry for help. In which, quite helpfully, Tubbo just snorted in reply, hiding his smile behind his hand. Tommy merely rolled his eyes at the gesture before taking the crown that was still resting tidily on his head and tossing it on Ranboo’s lap. The boy looked at the crown, almost in some sort of shock before mouthing a ‘thanks’ at the blonde, to which the other turned away.  _

_ “Well then,” Tubbo clapped his hands together, seeming more cheery and calm now that things have settled. “Ranboo? I think we should look for that memory book, right? Before it gets taken by a fox, or something, you know?”  _

_ “Oh- right!” Ranboo stood up, and Tommy- if you asked Tommy,  _ no,  _ he did not almost  _ shriek  _ and flail like a pussy when the half-and-half boy stood up to his full height- what are you talking about?  _

_ But as Tubbo and Ranboo disappeared behind the door (to which, funnily, Ranboo had trouble with getting through due to his height), Tommy allowed his shoulders to loosen up and relax. A small, almost nostalgic smile spread across his face before he took off, sprinting after the duo while loudly swearing profusely at them for ever so daring to leave him behind.  _

_ He could get used to this.  _

  
  
  


“Morning, Toms, how was your sleep?” 

Tommy had a smile on his face as he hopped down the stairs, his thoughts running wild that Saturday morning. He had been practically in his own world for a while when he woke up, instantly wanting to try to do it again. Although his feet ached from the constant moving he was doing, he couldn't bring himself to care. It was like a one way exit ticket from reality- how could he not pass that up at every opportunity he had? Especially when it was just so...addicting, like a siren trying to lure him away from his ship. 

He knew it wasn't real; his brain still worked, after all. But still...he couldn't help but go over the “memories” he had. Comparing his dream versions of his family to his actual one is quite entertaining- Phil, having large, elegant, ebony wings? Technoblade- his nerd of a brother- being an anarchist? Not to mention imagining Wilbur, the very same person that, when a toddler, ate  _ sand _ , blowing up a country? It was fascinating, absurdly hilarious, and weird all the same. 

(Even Tubbo, who couldn't fight or lie to save his life- going into war alongside him and eventually becoming an undercover spy? Even Ranboo, who was just a mere character that he had come up with on the spot, suddenly brought to life and action with just his thoughts? 

It was euphoric.) 

When he had come back to reality, he had realized that it was quite early. Although, if he was the first one to arrive at breakfast it wouldn't be too far off. Techno, most of the time, refuses to sleep and ends up passing out from exhaustion. On the other hand, Wilbur is a deep sleeper, often snoozing through the later hours. So, it wasn't really a surprise when Tommy went downstairs to find Phil being the only other person awake at the good hour of seven in the morning, sitting at the table while drinking a cup of tea and reading a book. Although, Tommy did find it a bit strange that he was wearing his working clothes, even though it's a Saturday. But, he decided to save the question for later- it can wait. 

“Good,” The blonde nodded at his father, sitting down at the table from across from him. “I had a nice dream last night- it was  _ so _ fucking cool.” Well, he wasn't  _ technically _ lying, now was he? 

Phil looked up from his novel, taking a sip from his tea, sending a gentle, curious glance at his son. “Oh? What was it about?” 

“It was this crazy, fuckin’, alternate universe, or whatever the fuck you call it,” Tommy shrugged. “Dad, you had  _ wings.” _

“Wings?” Phil echoed, voice amused. “Well, that sounds like a very interesting dream you had there, kiddo.” 

Tommy nodded enthusiastically, perking up about the topic. “Yeah, and-” 

“Ah, wait,” Phil interrupted, an apologetic look on his face. “So sorry to interrupt, but I just remembered something. Tommy, I have to leave in a bit for work, alright? I know that Techno and Wil won't be up until later, so I need you to be responsible for me, okay? Don't burn the house down.” 

“Wait, are you leaving  _ now?”  _ Tommy’s brows furrowed, the suddenness of the statements surprising him. “And it's Saturday, fuck work! You don't have to go to work!” 

Phil just sighed, making Tommy wince slightly- he  _ hated it _ when people did that- it always made him feel guilty of his actions. “Tommy, believe me when I say this, if I could, I absolutely would stay here in a heartbeat. But we got a lot of work last night, so the company is making us come in today. I should be home earlier than normal, though, if that makes it any better.” He smiles. 

It really doesn't, but Tommy, not wanting to sadden his father, smiles back and barks out a laugh. “Hell yeah! Wait, does that mean I'm in charge? Fuck yes!” 

Phil’s shoulders relax slightly, and Tommy counts that as a win. “No, hold on a second there, mate. Wil and Techno are the ones in charge, but since they won't be up for a while…” He pauses. “I think you're old enough to do what you want. Just don't torment your brothers and, again, don't light the house on fire, yeah?” 

“Why do you keep saying that?” Tommy groans in annoyance. “That was one fucking time! How was  _ I _ supposed to know that the microwave is a fucking pussy?”

Phil shakes his head. “Mate, the microwave is not a  _ pussy. _ You're not supposed to put metal in the microwave!” 

“Well, maybe the microwave should learn how to handle it- I mean, come on, it's just metal! It's not, like, a bomb or something!” The teen insisted before falling into an awkward silence. “So...what time are you leaving, exactly?”

Phil took a glance at his phone, bringing it out before cursing under his breath. “Shit- time flies by, huh? I have to go in ten minutes. And I still need to get those papers sorted…” He sighed again, taking a deep breath before turning to his youngest. “I'm going to go get my things ready, okay, kiddo? Take care of your brothers for me, yeah? There should be some food on the stove and in the fridge, if you want to eat breakfast now. You know the rules- don't go out of the house unless you tell either Techno or Wil, okay? Be good.” 

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, because ten minutes seemed a lot of time to him- why did Phil have to leave  _ now? _ He just got down here, and he rarely sees his father anyways, so  _ why?  _ It wasn't fair. He missed the days when he was smaller, where Phil would come from work early, reading bedtime stories to him. He missed the time they spent together; with  _ everyone _ in the house. He knew Phil couldn't help it- Phil was doing his best, he knew that. It was just the price he had to pay. 

(Even so, a selfish part of him wished that Phil didn't have to. That Phil could  _ stay _ . For once. 

Yet, another part of him scolded him, told him he was being dramatic, attention seeking. It was one day; he’ll be fine. It was nothing that he couldn't handle- why was he being such a baby about it? Gods, when did he become so damn sensitive? He needs to set himself straight.)

But, he merely clamped his lips shut, giving a nod as Phil rose from his seat, ruffling his son’s hair before quickly making it up the stairs to his room. Tommy only stared after him, sinking further into his chair. He rested his arms onto the table, laying his head down on them. 

It seems like a long day was awaiting him. 

  
  
  


Envy, Tommy finds, is a rather new emotion that he’s starting to become familiar with. 

As much as he loathed it, he found that a majority of it surrounds Tubbo. He shouldn't- he shouldn't feel this way, should he? It's his best friend- the person who has been with his from the beginning- the person who was practically like a brother to him. The person who he knew like the back of his hand. It felt...traitorous, thinking of him in such a light. Especially that, knowing Tubbo, wouldn't be even having these thoughts, surely. 

(Though what does he have to envy  _ Tommy,  _ of all people, for?) 

Tommy had been at Tubbo’s house to recognize Tubbo’s family as familiar, too, as Tubbo does to Tommy’s family. He sees the way Eret perks up from whatever they're working on to give Tubbo a warm smile. They drop what they're doing to greet the duo, asking both of them about their day, what they've been up too, how school was like. He watches the way Eret and Tubbo easily talk to each other; there is no barrier between the two of them- in fact, they seem to almost be perfectly in sync. And, the thing that surprises Tommy, is that Eret welcomes him in on the bonding as well. There’s no anger or annoyance in their features- they seem genuinely happy to have him there. 

(Meanwhile, Tommy cant even get Wilbur out of his room to just ask him a question, only receiving a yell of,  _ “Piss off, Tommy, I'm busy!” _ in return.) 

Tommy watches, watches as Niki arrives home, looking tired. Still, she gives her siblings and Tommy an upbeat voice, putting away her things to talk to them. She picks a spot to idle by, slipping into the conversation smoothly. She laughs, she’s expressive, and she seems to be enjoying herself. Niki tells stories about her work at the bakery, chatting away about customers that day, her co-workers- it doesn't seem to matter, Niki just makes it...work. Any other topics or thoughts Tommy might have just...evaporate, and suddenly, he’s listening attentively to Niki, paying attention to her story as well as he can. 

(The next day, Tommy tells Techno about one of Niki’s many tales. His brother just nods, gives a clipped, monotone response, and then dismissively says that he needs to go to the library for studying.) 

Schlatt was...a bit odd, though. Loud, uncensored, though it's apparent he tries his best not to get too chaotic when he’s around his children- honestly, Tommy wonders where Eret, Niki, and Tubbo got their good influence from, sometimes. But, Schlatt’s there. He works from home, and when Tommy’s over, lounging on the couch with Tubbo, watching T.V, it's not uncommon to see Schlatt check up on his kids. First, he loudly calls from another part of the house, having Tubbo yell a response back at him. Then, he’s with them, sparking a conversation instantly. As much as Tommy is sometimes quizzed by the man, he can say that Schlatt is definitely quite fun. Chaotic- not the type of person Tommy would see raising three children by himself- but fun, involved. 

(“I'm sorry, mate,” Phil apologizes, giving his youngest, who is standing in his doorframe, a strained smile as he straightens out his papers on his desk. “Maybe another time? I'm super busy right now. Work got a lot heavier, and...well, you know. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

Busy. 

Busy, busy, busy  _ busy. _

Everyone was so busy.) 

At times, Tommy wished, childishly, someone would do the same for him. He wanted Wilbur to hang out with him, to crack jokes with him and come up with mischief to brew. He wished for Techno to just  _ talk _ to him for once, not to just push him aside in favor of his studies. He longed for Phil to just be  _ home, _ to be there when he needs him. If Niki, Eret, and Schlatt could do it, why couldn't they? What made it so hard for them? Did it hurt to even just spare Tommy a good ten minutes of their time? Surely they couldn't have their schedules that packed?

Eret is one of Wilbur’s friends, so they’re out with their friend group a lot as well, but even they spare time for Tubbo. They don't get annoyed by Tubbo, either, when he asks them to come to the other room to talk for a while. Instead, they stay longer than anticipated, and they help Tommy and Tubbo get out of trouble when needed (and sometimes, when Eret has that  _ particular  _ look in their eyes, cause it as well). 

Niki, most of the time, spends her hours after school working at her part time job at the bakery. She works, both out of enjoyment and just to make a bit more extra money. She’s in college as well, working hard as ever. However, at least she still comes out of her room and walks around the house. At least she shows that she  _ cares. _ Some days, when Tommy is over and sees Niki come home, can see the look on her face. A face that reads of pure exhaustion, but she still went up to Tubbo, greeting him, cheery as ever. 

Schlatt wasn't a perfect dad, either, Tommy knew. But his kids were fine with that- they still loved him, and although sometimes he showed it in weird ways, Schlatt showed his affection and love, too. When he got his small breaks in between his job, he would go around the house checking on his children, if they were home. He would excitedly yell out their achievements, boisterous enough for the whole world to hear. As if to say,  _ “That’s my kid! I'm damn-well proud of them; the world needs to hear what greatness they've done”.  _ He took pride in them. 

Tommy wished his family were like that- oh how he  _ wished. _

He knows it's selfish, he  _ knows. _

And it's not like he had anything superb to get their attention, did he? He wasn't a musical genius like Wilbur- he couldn't strum a guitar to make it harmonize. He couldn't sing in a soft tune of voice, a voice that would draw you into song and make you relax. He wasn't intelligent or strong like Techno. He was skinny and lanky, which was only good for speed, at most. Not to mention that his grades in school were just average- not bad, but not amazing, either. He wasn't like Phil, who could calm angry waters down quickly, who could be level headed, hardworking, smart, and a bit mischievous all the same.

Which is why his world is so important to him. 

Because it's undoubtedly  _ his _ and  _ only _ his. 

It was something he had- finally, something he had that nobody else  _ did. _ Something that he could call his own. It wasn't a talent, he doesn't think, but to him, it doesn't matter. It's...it's just his. His world, his fantasy, where anything could happen, where his wildest dreams could come true. A space that nobody could take away from him, no matter how hard they tried.

_ It's fake, _ a piece of him reminds him,  _ It's all fake. It's not real. You are aware of that, right? That isn't reality. _

_ Maybe not, _ another part of himself reasons, voice louder than the former.  _ But does it matter at this point? It doesn't. It doesn't matter. It's real to me. And so what? It feels real enough. Let me enjoy this. _

The voice falls silent. 

And Tommy? 

Tommy lets himself drift again, letting the music wash over him again. He fades, fades until the world becomes fuzzy, replacing itself with a newer one. A more hopeful one. One full of adventure, fantasy, and care. One that welcomes him, welcomes him when he feels as though no one else will. 

_ Tommy opens his eyes, letting his gaze fall onto Ranboo and Tubbo, who are talking amongst themselves in front of him.  _

_ He is free once more.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it- that concludes the second chapter! Hope you guys liked it! The angst is slowly piling up, uh oh. 
> 
> But my goodness, I do love the Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo dynamic- how could I not add it? Although, Ranboo's now more an imaginary character, isn't he? Oh well. 
> 
> (Fun fact: A friend of mine who gave me a lot of inspiration and ideas for this fic's favorite DSMP member is Ranboo. So in honor of them and for supporting me, that's also a reason why I decided to add him!) 
> 
> Anyways, I won't keep you long, but please leave your thoughts down in the comments! Any feedback is appreciated! Hope you all have a wonderful day or night. Stay hydrated! Remember, take care of yourself, because there's a lot of people out there who care about you. <3


	3. Please Let Me Go a Bit Longer, I Don't Want to Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur doesn't know what's happening to his brother. 
> 
> Needless to say...he's more than a little concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE. NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE SCENE. PLEASE BE SAFE! 
> 
> And it's finally here! I've been so excited to write this chapter, haha! Personally, I think I...might have paced this a lot quicker, and I may have made Wilbur OOC, but I'm trying! Originally, I was going to cram this and another whole bunch of scenes in this chapter, but I thought that it was getting too lengthy, so I decided to split it! 
> 
> Choo choo, the overwhelming angst train is here :') 
> 
> Anyways! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! And as always, thank you for the feedback in the last chapter! I appreciate it so much <3

It's been a few weeks since Wilbur felt more on edge around his little brother. 

Despite his talks with his twin, Techno keeps insisting that Tommy is fine, that Wilbur was, maybe, just being paranoid. Techno is observant, Wilbur knows that, and he should trust his judgment, but Wilbur just can't shake the odd feeling. The three of them, as siblings, were all close, sure, but Wilbur and Tommy had a special connection. It was almost just like how Phil and Techno had a certain connection as well. That's just how it worked. Out of the twins, Wilbur was the one who knew Tommy better, while Techno knew Phil like the back of his hand. 

So Wilbur started to pick up on things. 

He noticed how Tommy, for the past weeks, has been spacing out more- usually during eating hours. He seemed...out of it, like he was on a completely different planet. Momentarily, his blue eyes would become foggy and slightly dilated. His expression would morph into neutral, only having a small smile perk up at the ends of his lips. It would take a bit to get the blonde’s attention, much to Wilbur’s concern and annoyance. Often, when he managed to get Tommy out of his trance, he looked lost, angry, and lamented. It was almost like in the span of just a few seconds, his little brother had lost something of importance to him. 

_(“Tommy?” Wilbur snapped his fingers, narrowing his eyes at his brother. “Tommy? Oi, wake up.”_

_Tommy blinked, the misty look in his eyes slowly evaporating from his face. “What?” He turned to Wilbur, something familiar to a scowl now replacing his previous dazed look. “What the hell do you want? I'm listening, I'm listening. I wasn't fucking sleeping or something.”_

_“Right,” Wilbur says, obviously not convinced. “Can you actually pay attention? I'm trying to talk to you here.”_

_Tommy let out a small scoff in return, muttering something under his breath. “Sorry, Big Man. I'm just...really tired, okay? I'm going to head back to my room now, thanks for the lovely chat. But I need to get going; Tubbo’s expecting a call from me.”)_

Not to mention Tommy’s odd behavior. He’s been less loud and rambl-y, which, at any other given circumstance, Wilbur would have cried in joy and sheer relief. But now? It felt...wrong. He hated to admit it, but he missed the loud (although annoying) voice of his brother, always filling the room with some sort of excitement. It felt empty without it. It was quiet- _too_ quiet. Like there was something missing. _Someone_ missing. 

The teen seemed to either be locked in his room doing gods know what or out of the house. He started leaving home just a week prior- always saying that he was either going over to Tubbo’s, or he was just going for a walk. He would always come back hours later, out of breath, not sparing any of his family members a glance before heading towards his room again. It was like the only time they could see him was during breakfast and dinner- no in between. 

_(Techno frowned at his twin, pulling his long, dyed light pink hair into a bun, hair tie in his mouth. “Yeah, he’s been acting...weird, but I say we should just give him space.” He said, voice muffled before he took the hair tie from his lips when his hair was propositioned correctly. “He’s sixteen, Wil, I'm not gonna help ya berate 'im. I told you: I'm keeping an eye on him.”_

_“I know that!” Wilbur huffed, irritation slowly rising as he threw his hands up slightly. “But you...Tech, you don't know- I just…” He sighed. “...I just have an off feeling, okay? It just doesn't sit right with me. Something’s wrong. He won't...he won't talk to me, Tech, I don't know what to do. He’s never been like this before. When did- when did Tommy become quiet?”_

_Techno rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wil, you know I'm not good at the whole...emotions bit. ‘M just as clueless as you.” He stared off to the side, thinking for a few moments in silence before looking back at the brunette. “Why don't you talk to Dad about it? He’s better at this stuff than me.”_

_“You know why,” Wilbur stares blankly, unamused. “Dad has enough on his plate as it is; I don't want to worry him even further. You know how he gets. I'm sure he already notices, anyways. If we go to him about it, then he’ll just think about it nonstop, and that won't do anyone any good. Especially since he’s gone most of the time.”_

_“I'm just sayin’, it's just an option,” Techno shrugs before taking a deep breath and making eye contact with Wilbur. His red eyes are in mild distress- most likely because of his lack of experience in the emotions department- and focus. “But, fine. If it helps, I could...try to catch him. But you're being here too, got it? I am not dealing with it by myself.”_

_Wilbur lets out a small laugh, shoulders relaxing and voice full of relief (maybe, just maybe, Tommy will talk to Techno, and then everything will be alright. Wishful thinking). “Right, right, of course, I wouldn't want to abandon dear ol wittle Techie-Blade all by himself without his mental support!” He grinned in a babyish voice._

_Techno responded with a prompt, solid punch to his twin’s arm._

_“Fuck! Techno, you absolute scum, watch it! You could have broken my arm!”_

_“Don't be a baby, Wil, walk it off.”_

_“Walk it off- oh, I'll show you who’ll be ‘walking it off’- get back here!”)_

Wilbur can fix it. 

He knows he can. 

(The problem is, though, is that he doesn't know _what_ to fix). 

  
  
  


Niki laughs beside him as the group continues to walk along. “I know! And the poor kid was, what, ten, or something? He just comes bolting in through the doors at top speed. Jesus, I thought he was going to make one of the customers trip!” 

Wilbur rolls his eyes. “Children are just smaller devils.” He huffs. “Their main purpose is to cause chaos and destruction.” 

Niki just giggles more at that, elbowing the brunette beside her lightly. “Not all of them! Children are actually quite adorable, thank you. They're angels!” 

Wilbur just blanches as the rest of the party let out cries of their own opinions. As of now, it was just him, Niki, Eret, and Fundy, strolling along. They were hanging out as per usual; there was no real destination in mind. Beforehand, they had idled at Niki’s bakery to talk to her there and eat for a while before getting up and leaving. Now, they were just going with the flow, chatting amongst themselves comfortably. Luckily, Niki was let off of work a little bit earlier today, so they had much more time to spare. 

Phil was out working, as usual. Before he had left home, Techno was already gone. He had shot Wilbur a text, explaining that he probably won't be home until a few hours, considering he was in the library, studying for an English exam that was coming up the following week. When Wilbur had left himself, Tommy was just home, by himself, in his room. Wilbur had a note on the dining room table explaining where he had gone before he left, although he was pretty sure Tommy could take a wild guess. 

(Wilbur hates how the feeling of normality is growing onto him every time he sees Tommy’s door locked, silence echoing through his room). 

“The only reason you two say that,” Fundy butts in, pointing at Eret and Niki. “Is because you've been blessed with the godsend that is _Tubbo._ He basically gets into no trouble!” 

Niki and Eret share a look before Eret lets out a low chuckle. “That's the thing about Tubbo- he has you all fooled. He plays himself off as this innocent, pure kid, but you honestly haven't seen what he can do.” 

Wilbur scoffs. “I seriously doubt that anything Tubbo could come up with is as bad as whatever Tommy could do. You haven't known _hell_ until you live with that gremlin child.”

“Though, Fundy’s an only child,” Niki points out. “Does he really have any say in the matter? No sibling, no opinion!” 

“We’re not just talking about younger siblings, it's just children in general.” Wilbur puts a hand on Fundy’s shoulder, considering the ginger is on the other side of him. “Don't try to silence my son!” He gasps dramatically. 

Fundy just buries his face in his hands. “For the last _goddamn_ time, I am not your son.” He groans, but his protest falls onto deaf ears. “I ask you to pretend to be my dad one time, and suddenly, you try to twist in this whole family dynamic thing.” 

“Shh, my son,” Wilbur moves his hand to pat Fundy’s head, much to the ginger’s annoyance. Wilbur just smiles cheekily. “You don't need to be embarrassed, my lil’ champion!” He coos. 

_“Stop.”_

The rest of the group bursts into laughter as Fundy tries to storm forwards before a smile falls onto his own face as well. They wander back into a comfortable silence for a moment before someone brings another topic up. He engages in the conversation, he laughs, he jokes, he teases. 

And Wilbur feels content. 

It's Wednesday, deep in the afternoon. The sky is bright and clear, save for a few, spread out white clouds filling the sky. There's a small drift of the wind that blows in the air, making it cold, but not freezing cold. With the contrast of the wind and the sun shining on the world, the day is perfect. 

It's perfect. 

Until it's _not._

Because as he and his friends turn the corner, the sidewalk they're on bordering a busy road, making them fall into groups of two, Wilbur sees something out of the corner of his eye. A familiar head of blonde hair, and even more familiar pairs of light blue eyes enter the edge of his vision. Turning his head, he could see his brother walking on the same sidewalk as them, opposite of the group. He seems...he looks like he's not there, mentally, that is. He has headphones plugged into his ears, hands in the pockets of a red hoodie he shrugged on.

Niki, who filed beside him, looks up to where his gaze points to. “Wil? What are you- oh! Wait, is that Tommy? What is he doing out here?” Her tone is etched with some worry. 

Wilbur doesn't look at her; his eyes are glued to the blonde. “I don't know,” He says, head reeling. “When did he leave? He was home when I left. Oh, jeez, Dad is going to _kill_ me if he knows that he left without anyone knowing.” 

“I'm sure it’ll be fine,” Niki assures. “Your dad doesn't get home until later, right? You have plenty of time! And-” The girl cuts herself off, halting in her tracks. 

It all happens so fast. 

It happens _too_ fast. 

Because at one moment, Tommy is standing in front of him, walking at a normal pace. 

Then the next, his little brother had turned and he’s headed straight for the road, and there are so many cars bulleting their way on the pavement— _does he have a death wish?_ — but Tommy doesn't even give the blaring cars even a _bat of the eye, and—_

Before Wilbur can properly think, his body surges forward, sprinting towards the road with all his strength. He’s faintly aware of his friends behind him, yelling. He’s faintly aware of the fact that someone tries to stop him, tries to pull him back, but he pushes himself forwards- he _has_ to. 

_He has to save him._

  
  


**_—Ω—_ **

  
  


_“I fucking hate this!” Tommy huffed, trudging through the forest as he tugged on his maroon cloak tighter. “What are we looking for again?”_

_“A village, I'm pretty sure.” Ranboo supplied beside him. His own cloak, which was colored black, had its hood down in order to avoid knocking his crown over._

_Tubbo, who was in front of the duo, nodded. “Mhm! We need to make some trades. You guys do have your emeralds, right?” He turned to them._

_“Ah- hold on, let me check...uh...yeah, I have them!”_

_“Why the hell would I have emeralds on me?”_

_Tubbo let out a sigh, staring at his best friend with an unamused look. “Tommy.”_

_The blonde held up one of his hands defensively while the other went digging in his pockets to hold out a shiny, sparkling green emerald. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Jeez, Tubbo, lighten up man!”_

_“I'm just saying, we’re already a long way from home,” Tubbo turned back around to continue walking. “If you didn't have your emeralds after, what, thirty minutes of walking? I would lose it. I even reminded you both, like, ten times!”_

_Tommy, who had snagged the emerald back into his pocket, crossed his arms. “Hey! What the fuck is that supposed to me? I wouldn't have forgotten! Tell that to Ranboob- he’s the amnesiac around here!”_

_Ranboo shook his head slightly, looking disappointed. “It's Ranboo,” He corrected with a sigh, although a part of him knew that the other would never give up the nickname. “And I do have my Memory Book, so I don't think I would have forgotten either. Weren't you the one who forgot their pickaxe when we went mining the other day?”_

_“Okay, so I forget to grab something one time—”_

_“More like all the time, actually.” Tubbo snorts. “You're even worse than Ranboo, and his whole thing is that he forgets stuff.”_

_Ranboo frowned at that. “That is not my “whole thing”.” He protested._

_Tommy tapped his chin. “Well, that and making some sick ass noises! Dude, you sounded just like an enderman yesterday! It was so fucking cool!”_

_“Well, I am partially enderman, Tommy,” Ranboo chuckled a bit. “It makes sense, doesn't it? And the only reason I did was because you came out of nowhere- from_ under the floor _like a raccoon, and-”_

_Tommy waved a hand dismissively. “Nope! I don't remember such a thing, Big Man. You must be forgettin’ shit again.” He gave a deep sigh before calling out. “Tubbo! Can you believe this? He’s using his amnesia as a tool to make things up!”_

_“I saw it happen, Tommy,” Tubbo called back, walking through the trees. “And, to be fair, you_ did _just pop out of the ground. Seriously, Toms, do you even care about our house at this point? I swear, one of these days you're actually going to get out homeless by accidentally placing lava on it, or something.”_

_Tommy sputtered in response. “Tubbo! Big Man! Big T! You're supposed to be on_ my _side! Are you-” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you two seriously fucking ganging up on me right now? What, is it National-Tommy-Harassment-Day? Is that what’s happening here? Fuck you, Tubbo, you traitor, you backstabber- I thought I could trust you!”_

_“Stop being so dramatic.” Even though Tubbo had yet to turn around again, Tommy could_ feel _the eye roll that the brunette did. “Ranboo, please restrain him.” Tubbo tilted his head slightly, just enough for Tommy to see the shit-eating grin he had on his face._

_Tommy’s stomach dropped with dread._

_“Wait, what the fuck does that mea—”_

_“On it.”_

_Before Tommy could even dodge, there were arms around his torso, picking him up from the ground. His feet dangled from above- he was being held like a fucking_ cat. _Immediately, of course, he started to struggle, which made Ranboo only reposition him, but, sadly, didn't make the other drop him._

_“You fucking son of a bitch, Ranboo! I swear to God, if you do not put me down right now I_ will _start stabbing shit, bitch boy—”_

_Tubbo and Ranboo had the_ audacity _to keep walking in indifference, though Tommy could hear the two of them both stifling a laugh._

_Tubbo just hummed, attempting to push down his grin. “Mhm.”_

_“—and you two don't want to see me when I'm angry. I swear, I am a Big Man- the biggest of men, in fact. How dare you- how fucking dare you two think you can just- just_ restrain _me! I am so powerful, Ranboo, you could not even begin to imagine how powerful and strong and big I am—”_

_“Uh-huh, interesting.” Ranboo nodded, still carrying Tommy like he weighed virtually nothing._

_“—so I suggest you let me the fuck go before I go ballistic and start a fucking riot or something. Do you hear me? This is- this is cruelty. The amount of betrayal I feel. You two- you two fucking traitors. I give you my home, my generosity, my kindness, and this is how I’m relayed? You’ll pay fo—”_

_Snap!_

_The trio falls silent. Any ounce of playfulness or light quickly died down at the sound of a twig being snapped. Quietly, Ranboo finally lets his friend back onto the ground, looking to the source of the sound._

_Tubbo’s the one who speaks up. “What...the hell was that? Was that any of you two?” He says slowly, voice hushed as he turns again to face his friends._

_“No!” Tommy whispers aggressively, eyes widened with unease. Ranboo just shakes his head swiftly. Tommy could faintly hear Tubbo curse under his breath._

_Ranboo was on the verge of hyperventilating, trying to calm himself down. “Okay- okay, this is fine, this is good, we’re good. We’ll be fine; we’ll be okay. Uh, we should- should we run? We should run, right?”_

_“Obviously!” Tommy hissed. “I'm not staying around to find out what kind of motherfucker is wandering in these fucking shady woods.” He cursed. Realistically, the sound could have been produced by a small animal, but hey, when you grow up in a world full of hostile mobs (not to mention that Tubbo and Tommy were familiar with ambushes and wars), you learn to be overly-cautious and wary._

_Tubbo nodded, being the calmest, despite the slight tremor that showed in his hands. “We don't...we don't have weapons, so we can't fight. The nearest village is closer, but…”_

_Ranboo took a deep breath. “...But we know how to get back home the quickest.” He finished._

_“We are not going to fucking stay here and brainstorm of a plan right now, thanks! Are you two insane? We got to go, and we got to go now! It doesn't matter where!” Tommy interjected, ready to bolt at any second now. “We just need to go!”_

_“Right, alright, okay,” Tubbo stood up taller. “The village should just be more up north, and then just a little bit east, s—”_

_Ranboo, surprisingly, was the one who surged forwards, effectively interrupting Tubbo. He had grabbed the brunette and Tommy’s wrists, sprinting through the trees. His pointed ears were perked up, and honestly, he looked...terrified._

_“Footsteps,” Was the thing that Ranboo gasped out as Tubbo let out a squawk of surprise from the sudden movement. “I heard- I heard footsteps. Someone’s coming, and they're headed this way. And they’re not alone.”_

_Tommy was slightly tripping over his feet, turning his head to look behind them on instinct. Frantically, his eyes scanned the forestry in a panic._

_Seeing nothing, Tommy allowed himself to relax a bit._

_That was, well, until unhinged, deep brown eyes met light, electric blue. A familiar smirk was on the face of the man he made eye contact with. His long, black jacket swished behind him in the breeze._

_Tommy felt his heart turn cold._

_(He ignored how the form flickered from a menacing smile to the soft, confused and concerned look of a brother._

_Why was he here?_

_He can't be here._

_Go back, go back, go back, go back. Roll with it. Just a little longer, please. Let him be free for a little longer. Don't bring him back, please, don't bring him back. He doesn't want to wake up. He doesn't want to face reality again— he can't. Please, let him stay in his haven for just a moment longer)._

_“Run,” The blonde whispers to his friends, sharply glancing back in their direction. “Fucking run!”_

_(Yelling. There was so much yelling. Tommy wasn't even sure which reality the source of the screaming was coming from. He wasn't sure if it came from his own mouth or from the others around him. The yells sounded panicked, frightened; like they had found something horrific._

_Tommy ignored how the yelling and the sound of footsteps got louder._

_Why can't it go away? He was happy, why did- why were they ruining it? Go away- he wanted the world to go away, to leave him alone- why won't it?)_

_He kept running._

_And then, a hand grasped onto his wrist tightly, yanking him backwards away from Ranboo and Tubbo. He hates how the world is flickering, like it's having difficulty focusing and presenting itself. He can make out Tubbo desperately trying to run back to save him, reaching out a hand towards the blonde, but Ranboo hurriedly takes the other away._

_Tommy, even after the two are gone, pathetically lifts his arm as well, in blind hope to reach them._

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no— not yet— it can't end yet—_

He gets pulled out. 

**_—Ω—_ **

  
  


Wilbur stumbled backwards, landing on the hard concrete with Tommy in his arms. They were wrapped protectively around the younger, tightening their grip when they hit the floor. Perking his head up slightly, he watched as a car whizzed past them not only a second later, trampling over the very same spot Tommy was running to previously. 

Holy shit. 

_Holy shit._

Tommy had almost died. Shit, he _almost died._

His grip tightened more. 

Wilbur couldn't hide the way his hands shook, clutching onto his younger brother as if he were a life force. What was he thinking? Why hasn't he said anything yet? Why was his baby brother so _still?_ Tommy was never still; he was anything but. He was lively, always full of energy and seemingly could never be kept still. He was boisterous, loud, and...and so full of life. So why was he so _quiet?_

“Wil, let him go,” A feminine voice shushed. The man turned to face Niki, who, like the others, had caught up to the duo. “You're going to suffocate him.” 

Wilbur ignored her, bringing Tommy closer to his chest. “Oh my God…” He muttered, voice slightly hoarse as he sat there paralyzed. His brain was still trying to wrap itself around what just happened. “Tommy, you _idiot._ You- you absolute moron. Do you even know how- how incredibly stupid that was?” A small tremor of rage seeped into his tone, fueled by pure fear.

“Wil…” Niki sighed gently before softly prying Wilbur’s hands off of his brother. “You have to let him go, okay? You're freaking him out.” 

Wilbur shook his head, trying to grab a hold of Tommy again. “No- no, Niki, please- give him back-” He tried to get up; his brother _needed_ him. However, a hand tugged onto his shoulder, pulling him further back from the blonde. Looking up, Wilbur could see that it was Fundy, who was looking at him apologetically. 

“Tommy,” A deep voice snaps Wilbur’s attention back to what’s in front of him. “Tommy, can you hear me? You need to breathe, okay? Deep breaths, come on...there we go, you're doing so well. Can you do that for me again?” 

Eret was kneeling on the ground now as well, Tommy across from him, still on his knees. Eret had their hands carefully on the younger boy’s shoulder, his face holding an encouraging smile. Though, Wilbur could tell, even if their eyes were covered by their signature sunglasses, that Eret was concerned. They started to make their voice a bit more hushed and quieter, whispering reassurances in Tommy’s ear. 

Wilbur saw how Tommy’s shoulders relaxed slightly, how, even from his position, saw how Tommy’s eyes cleared up and became more focused. He watched as Tommy started to mutter something back to Eret, evening out his breathing as the other brunette’s face softened. The two of them quietly shared a small conversation, shushed enough for only them to hear, and Wilbur just sat there and watched. 

(He couldn't help feel a stab of jealousy and anger in his heart. Tommy, who has rarely even spoken to him in _weeks_ was now, all of a sudden, was perfectly fine talking to _Eret?_ Eret, who has probably even barely seen the boy before, was now suddenly the person that was an expert in the boy's behavior? _He_ was related to Tommy, not...not _Eret._ Have Eret and Tommy even talked? Wilbur thought that Eret and Niki only knew of his younger brother because of him and Tubbo. 

Why had Niki passed his brother off to someone else so easily? Why did it seem like everyone in the group had a silent, mutual agreement of dragging Wilbur away? 

_Wilbur_ should be there, comforting Tommy and giving him a feeling of protection, safety, and security. _Wilbur_ should be the one who was calming Tommy down. _Wilbur_ should be the one embracing Tommy, telling him that it would be okay, that he was glad he was alright and safe. Not Eret.) 

Tommy had taken in a deep breath before looking around his surroundings, wincing when he saw Wilbur, who was back on his feet and approaching him. “Ayy, Wilbur, Big Man, Boss Man, Big W!” He chuckled awkwardly. “What can I do for you?” 

Wilbur’s mind was in shambles, for a lack of better words. Voices of confusion, anger, and worry all argued together in his head. He felt as though he was being split into three different spots. On one hand, he wanted to tackle Tommy into a hug again, grip onto him and make sure he was safe. Another part of him, however, wanted to be mad, to scream at the teen for doing something so incredibly _stupid._ Because what on earth was he thinking, running head-first into traffic like that? He could have died, and then what would they have done? 

(He didn't want to entertain such a thought, a world without Tommy). 

But, the emotion he felt most was confusion. Why was Tommy playing this off cool, like he hadn't just almost done something so incredibly reckless? Why did he look so uncomfortable around Wilbur? Why did he easily relax when was with Eret, but when Wilbur takes a step towards him, his brother shrinks away from him? Didn't he know that he cares about him?

(Eventually, one thought overpowered the others. And as much as the other two voices screamed at him, pleading him not to act this way, Wilbur ignored it). 

“Tommy,” Wilbur’s voice was cool, yet low; _the calm before the storm._ “We’re going home, now.” 

“Wilbur—” 

_“Now,_ Tommy.” Wilbur snapped before turning to the rest of the group, who was eyeing Wilbur warily. “Sorry to cut this short, guys, but I need to take Tommy home.” He shot his younger brother a look when he stood up, Eret helping him. 

“...Right,” Niki says, though it looks like she wants to say more. She shoots Eret a look, who in turn, gives their sister a small shake of the head. The woman sighs before nodding herself. “Alright. Just...take care, you two, okay?” 

Eret places a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder, making the teen turn to them (and, in turn, doesn't help Wilbur's mood at all). “You sure you're okay?” They ask, to which Tommy nods at them. They smile. “Good. Remember what I told you, alright? Stay safe, Tommy.” 

Fundy, who has stayed silent, awkwardly looking between the group, was now whispering to Wilbur. “Wil,” He spoke cautiously, like approaching a wild animal. “Go...go easy on him. I know you're probably worried, but—” 

Wilbur waves him off with a small glare (because Fundy had _no idea_ what was happening. He hadn't just watched his brother almost die right before his eyes) before grabbing Tommy’s hand a bit roughly. “We're leaving,” He states, leaving no room for discussion. “Come on, Toms.” 

Tommy just clenches his jaw tight tensely, looking behind him for only a moment to see Eret, Niki, and Fundy muttering to each other quietly. In front of him, Wilbur drags him just a bit tighter, hands still shaking. 

  
  


**_—Ω—_ **

  
  


“What the fuck what _that?!”_ Is the first thing Wilbur says- screams, more like- when the duo get home, slamming the door behind them. “What the actual fuck, Tommy? What were you thinking?” 

Tommy swallows- Wilbur had let go of him, now in front of him a few feet away. His brown hair was more messier than usual, and his clothes were slightly dirty. If Tommy squinted, he could see a small tear in his brother's yellow sweater- his _favorite_ sweater. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his eyes are full of...anger? Worry? Tommy...Tommy couldn't tell. 

“I—” 

“Oh, I know!” Wilbur says, his tone sickeningly sweet. The brunette can feel tears starting to prick at his eyes. “You _weren’t_ thinking! Fuck, Tommy!” He throws his hands in the air, running one of them through his hair as well. “Did you seriously not see the blatant traffic in front of you? Did you not hear the cars? Do you have a _suicide wish?_ Huh?” 

Tommy bites his lip, hard. “No, Wil, that wasn't- that isn’t it at all! I don't- why would you even think that? What the fuck! That’s- that’s fucking messed up! What the hell is wrong with you?” 

(Wilbur hates how he's acting. He hates how he can see how Tommy’s eyes water- fuck, what kind of older brother is he for making him cry? But he can't stop himself. He can't. 

Everything he’s been bottling up is crumbling down). 

“There’s nothing wrong with- there’s something wrong with _you!”_ Wilbur yells. “What the fuck has been going on lately, Tommy? You've been- first you've been spacing out, then you're locking yourself in your room, and- this isn't like you! You never even _talk_ to us anymore! You fucking- it's like you don't want to even see us!” 

“You don't fucking understand!” Tommy screams back, looking at the other with irritated disbelief. “Oh, so now when _I_ want time to myself, suddenly I'm neglecting everyone? But, oh no, when you, Tech, or- hell, even Dad do it, it's fine? That's some shitty double standards!” 

_(What?)_

Wilbur narrows his eyes. “Do not fucking bring Dad into this,” He growls defensively. “You know _damn_ well that he is trying his best, and that he's doing everything that he _fucking_ can to make sure that we’re cared for and have a roof above our heads. Do you know how worried he is? How _we’ve_ been?” 

“Well, then stop worrying!” 

Wilbur laughs bitterly. “If only it was that easy. How can we not? Because, shit, all you've been doing lately is just- spacing out. It's like you're not even here! It's like you don't even live here! Like you're in your own little daydream!” 

“So what if I am?” Tommy challenges. “At least my fucking daydream actually _wants_ me! They actually care about and _need_ me!” 

Wilbur stops dead in his tracks. 

And then the volcano that is Wilbur Soot Watson _explodes._

“You think- you think it- newsflash, asshole, it's a fucking _daydream!_ It's not fucking REAL! It can't want or need anything, Tommy! It's not real- it's fantasy. But do you know what isn't fantasy? This! This is real! This is a- you know what this is? That's right! An actual real fucking place with real people who have _real_ emotions! Do you even know what you're doing?! Do you know how Dad’s been trying to talk to you to see what’s going on, but you just head to your room instead? How Techno and I make fucking time for you, but you ignore us? You need a fucking wake-up call, Tommy! You need to fucking wake up, because this is getting out of control. You—” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilbur can see Tommy clench his hands into fists. “Shut up.” 

“No! Because you know what, Tommy? You need to stop this shit- this-” 

“I said, _shut the hell up!”_ Tommy seethed, gripping onto his head harshly, digging his nails in his scalp. “You don't know _shit,_ Wilbur! You- you and everyone else in this fucking household are a bunch of hypocrites! It's sad, really, Wil, because a fucking imaginary person and even imaginary versions of _you_ have cared about me more than you ever had! Unlike you, they actual give a fuck before I start to lose my shit!” 

Wilbur’s voice suddenly drops, hints of desperation now flooding it, replacing the previous anger. “You- Tommy- you know that’s not true. That is the _farthest_ thing from the truth! You don't- you don't mean that.” 

“But that's the thing! I fucking _do!_ You never take me seriously, do you, Wil? Because that’s all I am, isn't it? Just you're fuckin’ annoying little brother, right? Do you even remember the last time all of us properly hung out? Like, the four of us? Because I sure as hell can't! Do you know how many times I went to Tubbo’s house, and Niki and Eret felt more like my siblings than you and Techno ever did? Shit, even Schlatt was there for me!” 

“They’re not your _family,_ Toms.” Wilbur’s voice trembles. Whether it’s because of how heartbroken he is, or whether it’s another part of his rage, he doesn't know. It’s like he can feel himself shattering with every word that the younger boy says. It's tearing him apart.

“Well, they’ve been there for me!” Tommy argues, and Wilbur watches as a few tears make their way down the blonde’s face. “More than- more than any of _you_ have been.” He scowled. “When was the last time we properly talked, Wil? When was the last time that we actually did something? Because, oh, you have all the time in the world for your friends and your music, but when I even need help with _homework,_ I'm asking for too much? Is that how it is?”

Wilbur shakes his head. “That's not- you know that's not how it is!” He cries. “I do help, and I do care about you, and I know that Techno does, and that Dad does too! We’re doing everything we can, Tommy!” He says in frustration. Why couldn't he just understand?

“Really?” Tommy scoffs, another round of tears sliding down his cheeks. “Because it sure as hell doesn't _feel_ like it.” 

And Wilbur…

Wilbur doesn't know how to reply to that. 

Tommy seems to take his silence as...something. Briefly, he can see a flash of hurt in his eyes before they start to fog up. Somehow, his eyes look...darker. “That's...that's what I thought.” He muttered. “I- I'm done here. I don't want to talk to you. I'm going to my room.” 

Wilbur can only watch blankly as his brother storms up the stairs, shutting the door behind him loudly. His thoughts are even more of a mess than they were previously. 

He...he fucked up, didn't he? 

The brunette walks to the living room tiredly, flopping down on the couch where his thoughts seem to become louder. Honestly, that conversation couldn't have gotten worse. He didn't- Wilbur didn't mean to yell, he really didn't. It...just happened. He curses himself on how out of character he’s being. Wilbur, who usually has such a way with words that he could practically persuade anyone to his point of view, breaking down into tears and screaming like a toddler throwing a tantrum? It didn't make sense. Usually, even though he wasn't as good as being emotionless like Techno, he usually had his emotions under control, for the most part. 

So why did he have to crack now?

Shakily, Wilbur sighs, standing up. He doesn't want to keep tensions with Tommy. He doesn’t want Tommy to stay mad at him, and he honestly didn't want to argue with him anymore. He just wanted to _understand._ Logically, Wilbur knew that Tommy most likely wouldn't want to talk to him, that he would shoo him away, but Wilbur had to try, didn't he? He needed to show that he cared. 

(Absently, Wilbur wondered what on earth made Tommy think that they didn't care for him. 

Quietly, a small part of him knows the explanation. Tommy had made it obvious enough, hadn't he?). 

Quietly, Wilbur makes his way up the stairs, wiping his eyes dry, although he’s sure that they're still red. Carefully, he stands outside Tommy’s door, bringing up his knuckles hesitantly at the dark wood. 

He knocks. “Toms?” He says softly. “Tommy, are you in here? I'm not- I'm not mad, I just...I just want to talk, okay? I know you don't want to see me, but...can I come in?” 

There’s no answer. 

Wilbur knocks again. “I'm sorry, alright? I’m really sorry. I shouldn't- I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, okay? Just, please, let me in.” 

Silence greets him. 

Wilbur feels the hairs on his neck ride up. “Tommy?” He says, panicked this time. “Tommy, are you alright? Are you in there? Tommy, I'm- I'm going to come in, okay?” 

When nobody answers him again, Wilbur turns the doorknob hastily- thank God it’s, by some miracle, unlocked. Wilbur looks around his brother’s messy room, trying to find the familiar head of blonde hair. 

“Tommy? Tommy, are you hiding? This isn't funny. Where-” 

In front of him, Wilbur feels the harsh wind coming out from an opened window slap his face. 

His heart drops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! Wilbur is trying his best...he's just concerned and worried :( 
> 
> I'm really curious and excited to see what you guys think of this chapter! If it's not too much trouble, please leave a comment if you want! They're always appreciated! ^^
> 
> As always, stay safe, everyone! Remember to take care of yourself, because there are people who care a whole lot about you, myself included!


	4. They May Be Imaginary, But They're My Best Friends; Don't Take Them Away From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy, deep in the forest with nothing but his mind and another accessory, finds himself spiraling. His mentality is, quite swiftly, crumbling, and he feels as though he's turning insane. 
> 
> At the same time, Techno tries to at least somewhat patch up what's going on. He might not be good at feelings, but he's still an older brother, and he has an obligation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four is here, whoo! I had so much fun reading the comments on the last chapter, haha. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it! This is by far the longest chapter I've written, whoo— and again, I've split it so it wouldn't be so long! We have some Tommy and Techno interaction here, finally! Techno gets to have some action in this fic, pog! 
> 
> But...my goodness, did I project heavily in this one, haha, sorry! 
> 
> Anyways, again, like always, I won't keep you guys for long! Enjoy the chapter! :]

Techno squints, adjusting his rectangular glasses on his face as he scribbles down more notes onto his paper. Currently, he has a thick book opened onto his right, whilst there's a stack of closed ones on his left. There’s a cup of coffee next to the stack of books as well (it’s black. Wilbur and Tommy often gawk at how he enjoys such bitter taste, but it honestly doesn't bother him). He’s hunched over in front of a desk in the corner of a library, his bag leaning against his ankles on his side. The library is quiet, as expected; there's only a small murmur of other people talking to one another that Techno can barely hear. At the moment, he’s working on a long English project- has been for the past few days. With the due date being just two days away, he wanted to get as much work done as possible. 

He’s been here for a few hours— maybe five? He isn't sure- he hasn't checked up on the time since he left the house. As he jots down something else on the paper, he makes a mental note of himself to check the time when he’s finished. He did, after all, promise Phil that he would be back before dinner, like usual. Techno remembers a time where he got so wrapped up in his work that a library staff had to tap him on the shoulder, only to tell him in a concerned voice that he was there all day, and that the library was about to close. He’s stubborn like that, he supposes. I mean, everyone in the family has some level of stubbornness- it just seems to run in their blood. 

Techno flips through the pages of the book, mind wandering. Curse his low attention span. He needed to get this work done, didn't he? He needed to keep his grades up as well. He couldn't afford to lack behind. Call him a perfectionist, but that's how he always felt (even if Wilbur and Tommy relentlessly tease him for doing so). He knows Phil would want him to have a break, but could he really? He knows that Phil, if he were here at the moment, would insist on him to take care of himself more, but did he really have the time? 

(A part of him is glad for the excuse of leaving the house. He lets out a sigh of relief whenever he leaves the door, rubbing his temples with his expression deep with stress. It was an escape of his own, if you will. He...as much as he loves his family- he would go to hell and back for them, if he could- he’s not great at the whole...emotions things. He doesn't know how to handle Wilbur, who is going out of his mind worried over their younger brother, even if they're twins. He doesn't know what to say to Tommy, who seems to be disappearing more and more frequently every day. He doesn't even know how to properly comfort Phil, tell him that everything's going to turn out fine, without feeling awkward). 

A sharp buzzing sound coming from his pants pocket makes him refocus on his surroundings. Shaking his head slightly and letting out a sigh, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, looking down at the caller ID. 

The words, _Music Nerd,_ stare back at him. Why was Wilbur calling him? Shouldn't he be hanging out with his friends at the given moment? Or, was it that late already? But- no, Techno can see the time at the top of the screen- it’s five o’ clock. Sure, it's late, but usually, Wilbur would just be leaving around that time. Did he need Techno to pick him up or something? Though, on the contrary, Wilbur rarely went that far from home, and even if he did, he made sure that he had a way to get home safely. Did something happen?

Techno feels a frown make its way on his face as he clears his throat, answering the call and bringing up the device up to his ear. Faintly, he can hear a small gasp come from the other side as well as a thankful mutter of, _“Thank God”._

“Hullo,” Techno resumes working, even with the call running. He shifts the phone to the left side of him so that he can actually write. “What do you want, Wil?” 

_“Techno—”_ The man in question furrows his eyebrows at the choked sound of his twin’s voice. It sounded...cracked, or like Wilbur was in some sort of pain. Techno could hear a small sob on the other line before Wilbur talks again, voice uneven. _“Techno, help- please, oh my God, please come home. I fucking need you right now. I- I tried to call Dad, but he’s not picking up, and I don't— please— Tommy— he—”_

Techno stops writing, sitting up straighter, which makes his spine crack from the hours of slouching. Was Wilbur...crying? “Uh- Wil, wait. Ya gotta calm down for me, alright? What…happened? What about Tommy?” 

Wilbur sniffs. _“I- okay, okay, I…”_ Techno can hear him take a deep breath. _“He- Tommy, he…”_

_“Tommy ran away.”_

Techno was on his feet in an instant, work long forgotten.

  
  


**_—Ω—_ **

  
  


Tommy, if he’s being honest, doesn't know where the hell he’s going. 

He only brought the quick necessities he needed- or, at least, felt he needed. ...Those being his phone, which was at 63% and his headphones. At the moment, he wasn't properly thinking. All that he knew was that he needed to get out of there and _fast._ He didn't want to be at home anymore. His room felt too crowded, and home...home didn't even feel like _home_ right now. He didn't want to sit in his room, waiting in anticipation for Wilbur to come in again and yell at him. Or, even worse— what if Wilbur had called Phil or Techno, and then the three of them talked him down back-to-back? Tommy...Tommy doesn't know what he would do if that happened. Would he cry? No, Big-Man-Tommy-Innit-Watson does not _cry._ He doesn’t. 

_(You knew this would happen,_ A nasty part of him whispers. _You knew this would happen, and you still continued with it. Why? Wilbur- he’s right, you know, you know he’s right._

He knows. 

He knows, he knows, he _knows._

So why does it hurt so much to acknowledge? 

Selfishly, a part of him longs to drown in ignorant bliss, continuing to live in his fantasies). 

Tommy doesn't know how long he’s been running. He doesn't even _remember_ how he got into this forest (in his head, he compares it to the many thick forests in the SMP). The blonde must have stupidly spaced out again, didn't he? His legs are wobbly, shaky, and tired. His breathing is ragged from the constant sprinting, and he leans against one of the trees, slumping down it slowly to catch his breath. He starts to sit down against the bark, curling in on himself. As he pulls his knees close to his chest, he buries his face into his knees. Even though it's a rather open space, Tommy feels...constricted, claustrophobic, like he’s trapped.

(Tommy ignores how the previously dry tear marks start to wetten again as he releases a short, disgusting cry that sends a strong tremor through his whole body. He’s not weak. He’s _not)._

_“Hey.”_

Tommy doesn't have to look up to recognize who it was. If he focuses, he can almost feel the weight of a person sitting on the right side of him. He can almost feel the awkward shuffle of another person sitting down on his left, too. If he tries...there’s an arm slinked over his shoulder, and there’s a soft hand trying to pry at his wrist. 

(It's a pathetic excuse to comfort himself, Tommy thinks. And he knows it's another one of his delusions, but he doesn't care- he _doesn’t._ Wilbur is wrong. He’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s _wrong._ They _are_ real. They’re real to _him._ So what if Wilbur thinks he’s crazy? So what if he even thinks _he himself_ is crazy? It’s fine. He needs this. He _needs_ this. Why can't Wilbur understand that? He needs someone to say this to him. He needs someone- _anyone-_ to tell him that they care about him. He wants a hug, he wants to feel warm and safe in someone’s arms again. And if it means driving him half-insane to get that crumb of comfort, then he’ll make that trade in a heartbeat.

Sometimes...Tommy finds himself concerned and afraid of himself, in moments like these. He thinks that he’s surely going crazy- that, maybe, he’s turning insane. But...it’s…it’s too _nice_ and _good_ to give up. It's too valuable. It makes...it makes Tommy feel safe. It makes Tommy feel _loved)._

_“Big Man?” Tubbo’s voice is gentle, worried. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did- did Wilbur hurt you?” He says carefully._

Tommy, much to his own disappointment, cries _more._ He tries to lean into Tubbo’s touch, to let Tubbo take a hold of his wrist so his friend can see him. He wants to be in Tubbo’s embrace, for Tubbo to gently comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be alright because that's all he ever _wanted._

(Tommy, delicately, pulls one of his hands up and places it on the grassy floor, peeking up to stare at an invisible Tubbo. He tries to force himself back. He blocks out the now darkening sky in the distance. He’s so close- he can almost see the brunette’s worried expression, eyes wide and bottom lip tucked into his mouth slightly anxiously). 

_Next, Ranboo speaks. “We- we came as fast as we could,” He says. “After...that guy, Wilbur, I think that's what his name was, took you...we ran to the village. We went looking for you as soon as we could, promise! I...I teleported all over the place, and it made my head a little dizzy and drained a lot of my energy, but…” Tommy can almost feel the slight smile that graces Ranboo’s lips. “We found you.”_

“I can't do this anymore,” Tommy choked out, shaking his head frantically. It makes him feel more crazy than he already thinks he is. “I can't, I can't, I _can't._ I want to go back home...please, I just want to go back home, _please._ Tubbo, I can't- he-” 

_Tommy can see Tubbo’s figure more clearly as the sun slowly, but surely, sets. Tubbo’s hands are resting on his arms, and his eyes are narrowed slightly now. They’re filled with confusion, and...a hint of anger? “He’ll never get to you again,” Tubbo promises. “I promise-_ we _promise. Tommy, as long as we’re here, we won't let him hurt you, okay? We’ll always be here for you. You're my best friend, Toms. We’ve been through thick and thin, yanno? It...hurts, seeing you like this.”_

Tommy opens his mouth, to apologize, to say _anything_ because, surely, he’s already disappointed _his_ reality’s Tubbo. He doesn't want the same fate to reach _this_ Tubbo. 

_Tubbo, however, cuts him off, and Tommy feels the other’s arms wrap around him. “That’s not bad!” He assures the blonde. “You...you can be vulnerable around us, you know? We’re your friends, Toms, and we care about you, you know that? We would never abandon you.” He continues firmly. “I would rather go through the entire Disc War again rather than do that, you hear me?”_

_Ranboo clears his throat, making Tommy avert his head towards the hybrid. “I...same goes for me,” He nods slightly, fiddling with his hands, but Tommy can see that he’s grown this sense of confidence over him. “I know we might’ve started off at the, y’know, wrong foot, but...I consider you guys my friends. You included, Tommy. You took me in when no one else would, and you treated me...normally. Like I wasn't different or weird from the rest of you. You...made me feel at home, and, ah...I guess I want to do the same.”_

Tommy tries to desperately wipe away his tears, but it's to no avail. “They- they’re going to take you away from me,” He muttered loud enough over his sobs. “I know they will! Wilbur, he- he’s going to tell Dad and Techno and then they won't let me see you guys again and I won't be able to go back, and—” 

_“We won't let that happen,” Tubbo interjects, sounding determined as he pulls away slightly from his friend to look him in the eyes. “When...when I say that we’ll always be here, I mean that, okay?”_

_“Just call for us- even think it in your head, and we’ll be here,” Ranboo hums. “You...we’ll get you out of here, okay? Out of this world, and...you know, we’ll go home. Right?” He glances to Tubbo, to which the brunette nods, a grin hopping on his face._

_“Yeah!” He glances at Tommy again. “We'll be here for whenever you need us, kay? You’re our best friend— why wouldn't we be here for you?” Tubbo’s expression softens. “...We’re not going to abandon you.”_

And in response, Tommy _wails,_ letting newfound tears trail down his face as he feels the icy cold wind bring him into a tight hold. 

_(To anyone else, it looks like a young child is sobbing to himself, hugging himself as his body shakes. But to Tommy, he’s being held caringly by the two people who care the most about him. The bitter temperatures of 10 degrees never felt warmer)._

  
  
  
  


The sun is nearly down when Tommy wakes up to the sound of the ringtone to his phone blaring. 

Groggily, Tommy rubs at his eyes, feeling cold, even though he has his hoodie still on. He lets out a yawn, stretching for a moment before looking around his surroundings in confusion. Where….was he? He wasn’t at home, he wasn’t in his room, and this wasn’t one of the spots he would usually go to when he wanted to get out of the house, so where—

And then it hits him. 

He’s alone. 

He’s all alone, in the middle of nowhere, with _nobody_ around to save him. He doesn’t even know how long he ran to get out here- he doesn’t even remember the direction he _came_ from. How long was civilization away? Where was he? What time was it? God, it was already freezing outside, and the sun was going down— how long had he been here, sleeping at the bottom of a tree trunk? What—

_“Your phone,” A familiar voice whispers in his head. “Tommy- Tommy, your phone. It’s ringing.”_

With panicked breaths, Tommy reached into his pocket and fished out his phone, seeing that it was at 34% on battery. Not...not a lot, but it should give it enough to answer the call, right? Slowly, Tommy tears his eyes at the middle of the screen, harsh anxiety creeping up on his spine. Techno...out of all people, Tommy wasn’t expecting _Techno_ to call him. Techno, the guy who _rarely_ cared about anything, calling him? The two of them even rarely texted each other, for goodness’ sake. Did Wilbur….did Wilbur tell him something? Did Wilbur do something? He must have, surely he did. There’s….there’s no other reason for Techno to call. 

But...he doesn’t want to talk to Techno. He doesn’t want to hear Techno’s horrible excuses or apologies. Somehow...he thinks that would be worse than if Techno yelled at him, like WIlbur did. Techno’s anger was something Tommy could handle- Tommy was used to his older brother’s stern face and looks of annoyance. He was used to Techno groaning out words that leached in disappointment and hidden anger, only so that Phil wouldn’t suspect something was off. Techno...receiving pity was something that Tommy loathed quite a lot already, but if it came from Techno, of all people? _Techno?_ Tommy couldn’t handle that. Techno was supposed to be stone-faced- strong- not...Techno didn’t _pity_ people. Techno would rarely even outwardly express if he felt bad for someone. It...hearing the pity in Techno’s voice would feel...alienated, to Tommy. Wrong. 

_“Answer it,” A deeper voice says. “We’ll...be here if you need us, okay? Don’t...don’t worry him. You need to get out of here, right? Then...um, I think this is our best bet.”_

Tommy takes a deep breath. 

He’s not sure of the people that he trusts. He’s not even sure of the people he’s even _comfortable_ around anymore. 

But...but Tommy trusts _them._ _They’ve_ been there for him. 

And so, a bit reluctantly, he answers. 

“Hello?” Tommy croaks, and internally, he curses at how hoarse, scratchy, and _weak_ he sounded.

The blonde can hear heavy footsteps on the other side of the line. _“Tommy?”_ A deep voice answers him. _“Thank fuck you picked up. Where are you?”_ He demanded, getting straight to the point. Tommy rarely heard Techno curse- he often kept his mouth clean, opting that cursing wasn’t really much of his thing, as dumb as Tommy thought it sounded.

Tommy cleared his throat, rising up on the offensive. “Why does it matter to you, bitch? Don’t you have studying to get back to? Quit bothering me; I’m fine. I’m at Tubbo’s place.” 

_“No, you’re not,”_ Techno deadpans, making Tommy wince slightly. _“You think we didn’t already call him? It was one of the first things we did. Now, I’ll ask again. Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up. And I left the library a half an hour ago, Tommy. Don’t give me that bullshit. Stop lyin’ to me.”_

Tommy bristled. “I’m not lying! Leave me alone, Techno, I don’t want to talk to you. I’ll come home soon, okay? Just...leave me alone. I’m fine; don’t pick me up. I’m not a baby or some shit.” 

_“I never said you were,”_ Techno says on the other side of the phone, sounding almost dangerously calm. _“Just send me your location. You’re lucky Dad isn’t home- he’d have a panic attack if he knew you were gone. Wilbur’s already losing it.”_

Tommy feels a stab of guilt in his stomach. “I- just tell Wil I’m fine, okay? He doesn’t...he shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll come home soon, I promise.I just needed to take a breather, okay?” 

_“For three, almost four hours?”_ Techno responds skeptically. _“Yeah, I don’t think so. Tommy, just- do me a favor and stop bein’ stubborn. Tell me where you are.”_ His voice hardened. _“Don’t make me find you. And I really...I don’t want to, but if I have to tell Dad about this, then I will. I told Wil to lay it off him until we found you, but if you don’t let me come get you, then you give me no choice.”_ Techno sighed. _“And I’m assuming that you don’t want that, right? So just...tell me where you are.”_

The teen froze in place, momentarily stunned. He...he didn’t want Phil to get involved. Phil already had so much on his plate, didn’t he? He already had enough stress as it is; Tommy didn’t need to add anything more to the mix, like always. Besides, Techno never broke his promises. Violent, when he needed to be, yes. Smart, most definitely, but if it was something that was publicly known about Techno, it was how he always kept his word. If he made a promise, he would swear to that until it's eventually paid off. Tommy remembers when Techno was in school, how he had owed someone a favor and, later, was found collecting multiple bags for that specific person. 

Tommy sighs. “....I don't know where I am,” He mumbles under his breath, trying to make his voice as quiet as possible, yet, somehow half-wish that Techno heard it.

_“Ya gotta speak up for me, Tommy.”_

“I _said,”_ Tommy huffs, like Techno is some sort of idiot for not understanding what just came out of his mouth. “I don't know where the fuck I am, bitch.” 

_“...You’re kiddin’ me.”_

“Afraid not, Big Man.” 

Tommy hears a deep sigh on the other line. 

(And he absolutely hates it, because surely that means he’s disappointed him, right? He hates being a disappointment- he doesn't _want_ to be a disappointment, but he knows that sigh. He knows that tone of voice. Techno’s upset with him, obviously. Why had he tried to speculate otherwise? What he pulled was...childish, even by his own standards. God, how selfish can he be? How inconsiderate, ignorant, and _stupid_ could he actually be? Apparently, a lot, he figures. 

_In the back of his mind, two different voices echo with cries of protest. It makes him feel a bit better, even ever so slightly)._

Techno goes radio-silent for a moment before his voice comes back, an unfamiliar edge to his voice. _“Alright. You know what, just- share your location with me in our private messages, okay? I'll come find you, just stay put, okay, nerd?”_

“Ew, why the fuck did you say ‘private messages’ like that? What are you, sixty? You can call it ‘DMs’, you know,” Tommy snarks, deflecting from the very fact that he’s trying to over-analyze Techno’s sentences. 

(Because his voice doesn't match up with the affection of the nickname. What’s happening? It sounds like Techno’s trying to do something, but _what?_ It confuses Tommy. Techno rarely shows any sort of emotion, ever. Him calling and acting out of character enough was already...odd, but this? It made Tommy anxious. Because Techno doesn't do things without a reason- he doesn't do things for the hell of it. He always has a reasoning. 

So what’s the reason this time?) 

Techno snorts, which makes Tommy relax a bit. _“My humble apologies. ‘DM’ me your location, nerd. There, was that better? Didn’t know I had to say that to appease the texting etiquette Gods, or somethin’.”_

“Fine, fine,” Tommy groans before quickly pressing the button on his device to scroll to the messengers app. “And don't tell me to stay put, bitch. You sound, like, every parent ever when they bring their toddler to Chuck-E-Cheese ‘nd shit, you know that? I'm not a kid; I'm not gonna wander around just because I saw some pretty fucking butterfly or something. That sounds like a Tubbo thing to do. Big Man Tommy doesn't get fuckin’ distracted, isn't that right, Techno? You better say ‘yes’, or I'll seriously run deeper away into these shitty fucking woods out of pure _spite,_ dont test me.” He rambles.

_“...Right, yeah, of course,”_ Techno responds, and Tommy can pick up the heavy weight of sarcasm, but...it doesn't feel right. It feels...hesitant. He supposed it's just...Techno being weird, or something. It had to be. _“I got your message,”_ Techno pipes up after a few seconds. _“I'm comin’, okay? If you move, I'm seriously gonna hafta hunt you down, and that is not a threat, but that is a promise.”_

Tommy rolls his eyes, even though he's aware that Techno can't currently see him at the moment. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Big Man. Don’t be long, okay? I’m fucking freezing my ass out here.” 

The phone goes off with a click. 

Tommy grips onto himself tighter. 

(It felt nice, teasing Techno again. This was the most they have talked in the past month. A part of Tommy is starving, thankful for the even slimmer of attention, but another part is skeptical, cautious, and wants to reject it. There’s a reasoning behind it, he knows there is. It was nice, but….it felt like a placeholder. A placeholder for something more dramatic, something more important. Tommy doesn't know what will happen when he gets home. Will Techno scream at him? Will Wilbur break down crying, Techno having to comfort him? Will Phil come home, finding the three of his sons all screaming at each other? Tommy doesn't know. He hates not knowing- it makes him feel more like a naive child. 

And he _hates_ feeling like a child). 

_“I think you did good,” A deep voice assured him. “That didn't go so bad, did it? You’ll be okay.”_

_A more higher pitched voice makes a noise of agreement. “Yeah, see? It all turned out good in the end, didn't it? Just...hold on, Big T. You can do it.”_

Silently, Tommy thanks the voices. He knows he doesn't have to say anything out loud for them to understand. They always understand. They _get_ him. 

And so, Tommy waits. 

  
  


**_—Ω—_ **

  
  


When Techno leaves the house, fumbling messily with his car keys, Wilbur doesn't say much. His twin is sitting in the living room, eyes dark, blank, and...emotionless. It makes Techno have to suppress a shiver when he sees him. Wilbur has his knees apart when he’s seated, elbows rested on his kneecaps and head buried in his hands. His maroon beanie is thrown aside on the floor, and the man’s face is full of dried tears. Techno knows that he...blames himself. He has been voicing that to him for the past few hours now, saying how it was his fault that Tommy left, that he shouldn't have snapped, how Tommy could be hurt at the moment, and Wilbur was the one who caused it.

When Techno had mentioned calling the police to find their younger brother, Wilbur had, surprisingly declined. It was like he was stuck between denial that Tommy would do such a thing and blaming himself to death. According to him, he said that Tommy, surely Tommy, would be home before it got too dark, right? Tommy was a smart kid— he knew when to stop messing around- he knew when to stop playing. Wilbur had faith. But as the seconds ticked on, as the minutes passed by, as the agonizing hours struck, that faith soon started to turn to nothing but dust. It hurts, seeing Wilbur like this. Wilbur, who usually had a clear head on things and wouldn't usually panic. Wilbur, who seemed to always have a plan for everything, always one step ahead of the game. But here he was, no plans formed; only pure horror and panic. 

And Techno...well, Techno, being who he is, didn't know what to do. He just stood there, stunned, desperately trying to aid Wilbur in any way that he can without making his mood worse. 

When he opened the door, Wilbur only looked up at him slightly, hope brimming in his eyes. “Bring him home…” Was all he mustered, voice croaky. “Please. Please, bring him home, Techno, please. Bring him home…” He repeated, like a broken record player on loop. 

Techno just gave a tense nod in response before jiggling the doorknob on the door, making his leave. He slowly walked down onto the pavement of their home’s driveway, approaching his car. It was a gift from Phil when he and Wilbur had turned eighteen- a car that they could both share together. Phil had saved up a crazy amount of money in order to buy a second car, even though, when Techno and Wilbur had found out, demanded that they pay him back in some sort of way. 

(“Don't be silly,” Laughed Phil, looking at his two sons in amusement, a soft look on his face. “You two don't need to pay me back. It's your birthday, remember? I've been planning this for quite a while, actually- a good couple of years.” When he sees Wilbur open his mouth to protest, he turns to him sternly. “Uh-uh-uh! I don't want to hear it, mate. Seriously, you two, take it. If you even try to pay me back, I'll actually ground you, you little shits. Got it?” 

“Yes, Dad,” The twins choroused together, although a bit reluctantly. 

Techno, though, shook his head afterwards. “I just...don't want you to waste your money, you know? Dad, this is really…” 

“Too much,” Wilbur finished for him, reading Techno, as always, like a book. “We appreciate it, Dad, we really do! It's just...a lot, and you know that with you working all the time, and since both Tech and I are both planning to go to college, we—” 

Phil placed a hand up, signaling Wilbur to shut his mouth. “I don't want to hear any of that. Like I said, I've been planning this for a long time, and it's your birthday, for Christ’s sake. Am I not allowed to spoil my kids on their eighteenth birthday? That being said…” He wagged his finger at the two. “I know you're both eighteen now, but you two don't need to worry about things like college, okay? I don't want you both to worry about that. I'll handle it. Just go have fun, okay?”

The twins, for a moment, fall silent before Wilbur perks up again, a devious smirk on his face. “I'm driving first.” He announces. 

“Nah. You can't, I'm older,” Techno grins back in response, the reply making Wilbur scrunch up his face. “So therefore, I think it, by default, goes to me. I have the privilege.”

“By eight minutes!” Wilbur exclaims before turning to their father, aghast. “Dad! Do you see what kind of fuckery he’s trying to pull? You see this bullshit, don't you?” 

Phil just shrugs unhelpfully. 

As Wilbur stares at his father in pure mock betrayal, Techno makes a move towards the car, to which Wilbur tries to tackle him. Of course, that doesn't end well. It quickly turns into a playful wrestling match between the twins, each yelling for the other to let go so they can drive the car. Techno’s winning, but he’s going easy on Wilbur, knowing that they're just messing around. Wilbur, on the other hand, is trying to fight back the best he can, laughing. Phil just stands by idly, watching his two sons with all the affection in the galaxy. Secretly, if it were up to him, he would give his children the whole world, if it was possible. 

“Holy shit, is that a fucking car? Can I drive it?” Comes a squawk from a certain thirteen-year-old blonde boy. “I call dibs! Fuck you, bitch boys!” He yells, sprinting past Techno and Wilbur. 

Phil blinks at his youngest. “Language!” He calls after him as Wilbur wiggles away from Techno’s grasp to terrorize Tommy. Techno lets go with a smile, edging towards Phil. “Honestly, I don't know where he picked that up from…” Phil sighs. 

Techno raises an eyebrow at him, looking unimpressed. “Really, Dad? You have no clue? No clue at all? I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in this family who has a clean mouth.” 

Phil just nudges his son with his elbow, cracking a smile at him, which was accompanied by a small wink. “Ah, you're right, who am I kidding? He was going to pick it up eventually, I guess. Oh, wait—” His head snaps up to his two other kids. Wilbur is currently sitting on Tommy’s back, pinning him down with his younger brother screeching in retaliation. “Wil! Don’t crush him; play nice, you two!” 

“Oh, no, Dad, you misunderstand! The gremlin is fine, I'm not even doing it that hard!” 

“FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH! I AM GOING TO DIE, YOU ARE ACTUALLY FUCKING KILLING ME, YOU ASSHOLE. HOW MUCH DO YOU FUCKING WEIGH?” 

“Stop being so dramatic—” 

“—says _you,_ Mr. Theatre-Kid-Nerd—” 

“—and did you just call me fucking fat?” 

“Yes.” 

“You little shit!” 

Techno can only watch alongside Phil, who is rubbing his temples, as Tommy tries to shove Wilbur off of him, while Wilbur is trying to deck him. Techno feels relaxed, being here with his family, and he knows Phil feels the same. It's natural and a light hearted environment. It's a place where Techno can be without growing anxious, or get distracted, or feeling like he didn't quite fit in, as cheesy as it sounds. After all, home was less of the location, as people would say; it was more of who you were _with._ Techno was often fond of that saying. 

But that was three years ago. 

Three years ago, everything was fine. Three years ago, the house didn't feel like a ghost town, a shell of what it used to be. Three years ago, they were like almost a picture-perfect family; nothing was amiss. 

Now, Techno wonders what the breaking point was).

Techno fumbles in the driver’s seat, unlocking his phone to tap on the location that Tommy had sent him. The car revs up as he does so- he’s already shoved his keys in. Shit— how did Tommy end up so far away? If Techno wasn't so determined at the moment to get to him as fast as possible, Techno might have marveled at the length that Tommy had gone. Thankfully, though, it wasn't too long; it wasn't like the kid went to the next town over. He was a couple miles away, but a good walk about if someone were to travel there on foot.

Techno...is a bad driver, ironically. Wilbur, out of the two of them, is the better one, honestly. Usually, because of this fact, Techno is extra careful on the roads, anxiety creeping up on him if he dares make a wrong move. But now? Now, he...doesn't care. He just needs to get to Tommy; Tommy, who’s in the middle of nowhere. Tommy, who on the phone, had his voice strained, as if he was forcing himself to talk to Techno. Tommy, who seemed ever so slightly hesitant at the words he spoke, like he was walking on thin, cold ice. 

His mind backtracks to home, to how it was just a few minutes ago as he drives, going over the speed limit a bit. It wanders. Techno likes to think of himself as a logical person, and he likes to think that, at most of the time, he knows what to do in certain situations. He knows how to stay calm and keep a clear head; he, like Wilbur, often doesn't lose his cool. But right now, logic is tucked away in the corners of his brain, and he allows his emotions, although inexperienced, to take the reins for now. 

Techno will find Tommy, he will. 

Because it doesn’t matter how many times Tommy runs away. It doesn't matter how many times the blonde curses at him. It doesn't matter how many times Tommy will snap, or Wilbur will break down, or if Phil finds out. They’re still family. 

And _goddammit_ if Techno didn't even _try_ to do something, he would never forgive himself. 

  
  


**_—Ω—_ **

  
  


_Ranboo quickly finishes wrapping the bandage around Tommy’s arm, eyes narrowed in concentration before they light up when he’s done. “And there we go! Um...I hope I did it right, haha. I'm not exactly the best medic.” He chuckles awkwardly._

_Tommy flexes his arm before shaking it a bit- then, wincing. “Ow, shit! Fucking bitch…” He curses. “Sorry, Ranboo. Uh- you did great. Bet I could do it better, though, just saying.”_

_“You don't even know how to make the bandages stay on! You rely on bandaids!” Tubbo calls from the other room loudly before coming into view at the door frame. “Don't give us that crap. You're not fooling anyone, Toms.”_

_“Excuse you, I am great at medical shit, for your information!” Tommy points at him in mock offense._

_The three of them are staying in the village that they were supposed to go to originally. They decided to rent three rooms in the Inn a couple of nights for a few emeralds. Tommy, after his encounter, was left bruised and a bit cut up according to Ranboo and Tubbo, when they found him. Tommy doesn't remember much of what happened; he only remembers somebody grabbing him, yanking him away from the group. After that it’s...just blurry. If he tries, he can piece together yelling and running, but...that’s about it. Luckily, he had only been left with just cuts and bruises- nothing that a first aid kit and a couple healing potions couldn't fix._

_Tubbo just rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Big Man, whatever you say,” He drawled before his expression became more tender. “You doing okay, though? You...didn't get hurt that much, did you?”_

_Tommy waved a hand at him. “I'm fine! Jeez, it's not like I'm on the brink of death, or something. You two worry too much.”_

_“...If you’re sure.” Tubbo says, not looking entirely convinced._

_“I am!” Tommy huffs before quickly trying to change the subject. “So, what did you get from the market?”_

_Ranboo gets up from where he and Tommy had been sitting on the bed. They were currently in Ranboo’s room of the Inn. “Oh! Did you get my ink and quill I asked for?”_

_Tubbo nods. “Yeah! I put all the stuff in the closet room thing.”_

_“It's just a closet, Tubbo.”_

_“Tommy, it looks more like a closet, though!” Tubbo protests. “It's- bigger! Does that make sense? It's, like, bigger than an average closet. It's different.” He then shakes his head. “Anyways- but, I got something else from the market.” The brunette smiles._

_Tommy just groans. “Ugh, please don't tell me it's just a fucking beehive or some shit. We are not starting a bee farm.”_

_Ranboo frowns. “I liked the idea of the bee farm…”_

_“That's because you’ve never seen Tubbo when he has bees around! He makes them into his like...fuckin’ slaves or something.” Tommy cringes slightly. “Super weird shit.”_

_Tubbo makes a ‘tsk’ sound. “I don't turn them into my slaves! They just like me better than you, and you’re salty about it; admit it!” He clears his throat._ “Anyways, _no, it's nothing bee-related! It's even better! Tommy...do you remember Cat and Mellohi?”_

_Tommy, instantly, perks up. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do! Where...are you going with this?” His eyes are filled with confusion, yet there’s a small ball of glee growing in his chest._

_“Well….” Tubbo’s smile only widens as he reaches into his inventory. “I saw there was a music shop, and I saw this, so….” The next thing Tommy knows, there’s a thin disc in Tubbo’s hand, a light red color shining in the middle. “...I decided to get us a little something! Just for the three of us, you know? It’ll be like our own disc! It’s called “Blocks”, I'm pretty sure. What do you two think?”_

_Ranboo’s heterochromia eyes seemed to sparkle at the disc. “I...this is…I love this.” A small smile of his own graces his lips. “I never...listened to music discs that often, actually. I...don't remember the last time I've ever heard music, now that I think about it…”_

_Tommy swerves his head to the hybrid, appalled with his mouth hanging open. “What?! You- you have to be kidding me. You're joking me, Ranboo, you have to. There is no way you’ve never heard a music disc before, I—” He then looks at Tubbo with a sudden glint of drive. “Tubbo, we need to fix this. Immediately. Where’s the nearest jukebox?”_

_Tubbo lets out an airy laugh as he watches Ranboo’s expression turn into one of slight confusion mixed with fear. “Tommy...is very fond of music discs,” He explains. “We had two, back at home, you know. He treated them like they were his babies. Someone stole them from us and gave us fake versions of them, but even then, he still got attached! It’s crazy. Sometimes, I wonder if he loves them more than me.” Tubbo sighs dramatically. “Me! His best friend! Replaced by a couple of music discs!”_

_“Are they...that good?” Ranboo asks hesitantly._

_Tubbo steals a glance at Tommy, who looks shell shocked, quickly before partially covering his mouth with his hand. “Ranboo, you didn't just— Ranboo—”_

_“What the_ fuck _did you just say?” Tommy, at first, sounds eerily calm before his voice booms. “I can't stand this! First, you say that you've never heard a music disc ever in your goddamn life, and then you pull this bullshit?! Really? ‘Are they that good?’” He makes his voice drastically deep in an effort to imitate the tall boy. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not understand fucking_ art _and_ beauty _when it is_ staring at you _in the face? You know what you sound like? You sound like a goddamn idiot who knows nothing about anything! Tubbo! Where the_ fuck _is the nearest jukebox? This needs to be fixed. This sin needs to be erased. ‘Are they that good?’” He mocks again._

_Ranboo raises his hands in defense. “Okay, okay, I get it, please calm down! Uh, I- I think the nearest jukebox is downstairs in the hotel lobby? Though I don't think they’ll just let us—” The hybrid interrupted himself with his own yell of surprise as Tommy grips onto both Tubbo and Ranboo’s wrists with his hands, speeding out of the Inn room and tumbling down the hallway._

_“Sucks to suck!” Tommy yells. “Doesn't matter! We’re gonna fucking play that disc whether they like it or not! It is fucking life that is going to unfold beyond their eyes! They should be grateful!”_

_“Well, it's not going to fucking work if I drop it, now is it?” Tubbo heaves, shooting the blonde a glare while gripping onto Blocks as the three of them somehow, miraculously, pull themselves down the stairs of the Inn._

_Tommy halts when they’re in the lobby, flipping around to pry the disc away from Tubbo’s hands. A look of distraught is on his face, and, honestly, he hates how Ranboo and Tubbo are cracking a laugh at his utter_ horror, panic, _and_ misery. _“Oh my Notch, it's broken? Did it break? Tubbo, don't tell me you actually fucking dropped it. Is there a scratch?” He grabs the disc away from his friend, slowly inspecting the edges of the disc, as if it were made of glass._

_Tubbo slaps a hand on his own neck in exasperation, sending Ranboo a look of ‘can-you-believe-this?’ before steeling his view towards Tommy. “No, it's not broken. I just almost dropped it, when, oh, I don't know, you fucking threw me around like a rag doll?”_

_Tommy lets out a sigh of a relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought it broke. Never scare me like that again, Tubbo. You almost gave me a heart attack, goddammit.”_

_“Oh…” Ranboo’s voice is full of realization as he nods at Tubbo understandingly. “I...think I understand now. I should write that down in my journal.”_

_Tommy nods too, firmly. “You should! I'm glad you understand, Ranboo. See, Tubbo likes discs too, don't get me wrong, and don't tell him I said this—” He tries to hush his voice down, but he makes it loud enough so Tubbo can obviously hear. “—but I don't think he quite understands how good these things are.”_

_“I can hear you,” Tubbo crosses his arms. “But, back on topic— Ranboo has a point. I don't think the lobby staff will let us...you’re going to do it anyways, aren't you?”_

_Tommy just stares at him, and that's all Tubbo needs to know._

_“...Alright.” Tubbo sighs, before his eyes twinkle a bit. “Let's go. And hey, if we get caught, it's not like they’ll kick us out or anything.” He shrugs._

_Ranboo squirms slightly. “You...please don't let us regret those words in the next five minutes. Tubbo, please, we got here just a day ago.” He says pleadingly._

_Tommy just lets out a cheer, dragging the other two to the jukebox in the room, ignoring the odd stares they're getting from staff and passerbys alike. Ranboo looks a bit anxious, eyes darting around the room for a few minutes before he eventually relaxes when nothing happens. Tubbo huns along to the melody as Tommy places the disc in. It's different from Cat and Mellohi, but that's perfectly fine; it fits. It's...more airy, less down-to-earth like Cat and Mellohi are. It lets you float with the notes, drift away. Tommy loves it._

_Blocks, he thinks, might be another disc he might have to add to his collection._

_And, oddly? Tommy doesn't even feel mad or jealous that there’s now three people enjoying his discs, instead of two. It feels...nice. Comfortable. Relaxing. At first, it was just him and Tubbo with their discs; the discs were_ their _thing, and everyone knew that._

_But, as Tommy comes to find...a group of three doesn't seem that bad._

  
  


As the music comes to a sudden close, Tommy blinks open his eyes sluggishly. Why...why did it stop? Where did it go? A sudden feeling of panic rises in his chest and he flips his phone around so he can face the screen. He ignores his pants of breath from the constant moving, and he ignores how his pants and sleeves are now slightly dirty. Tommy clicks the side of his phone, trying to power it on. A few seconds later of the constant, never ending pressing of the button, a low battery image appears on the pitch black screen. Tommy brings up one of his palms to lightly slap himself on the forehead. 

Of course it was going to run out of battery- why would it not? He doesn't have any Wi-Fi, and he has little signal- it's no wonder that his battery got all burned off quickly. It doesn't, however, stop the irritation rising in the back of his mind. Why did it have to end now? He was gone, he was _free._ Why did the universe just seem to be so insistent on keeping him grounded to this hellhole? It wasn't fair. _It wasn't fair._

(A part of him tells him that he's being dramatic, that he's being stupid. There are plenty of people out there who are in far worse situations than he is. He should be grateful for what he has. Hell, at least he isn't getting abused, tortured, or— or something else. He had a family- he should be thankful. He has a roof over his head, food to eat, clothes to wear, games to entertain himself, friends. He had no reason to be whining and bitching about how he’s stuck. He chided himself that, once more, he’s being selfish. He seems to be doing that more as of lately. 

Yet, eloquently, Tommy tells that part of him to shut up. He- he had the right to still be upset, didn't he? _Didn't he?_

He convinces himself that, yes, he does. 

_So why does saying that leave such a bitter, awful taste in his mouth? Why does it leave him with a feeli mg of guilt, a feeling like he just betrayed someone?)_.

Tommy sighs, straightening upwards as he looks at the sky- the...very darkening sky with a faint trail of stars freckles onto it delicately. And, slowly, Tommy's irritation morphs into fear. For a moment, he forgets how he got there— his memory is slipping. He tries to remember what happened beforehand, but his only memories include… 

_(Tubbo, not the one from here, from there. Ranboo, discs, jukebox, Inn, emeralds, villages, wounds, bandages, laughing, bickering, yelling—)_

...off-topic things. He tries to wrack his brain for answers, trying to push down the dwelling panic that is quickly rising in him. He doesn't know where he is— he doesn't know how to get home. Tommy isn't even aware that his breathing is speeding up again when his brain starts to buzz into overdrive. Was Phil home? Surely, he had to be. What would Phil say when he got back? Techno? Wilbur? Shit, why was he even out here? What was he doing? He was- right, that's right, he ran away. Why? He- he doesn’t- was it because of Wilbur? A group? A sidewalk, cars moving at unthinkable speeds, deadly roads— 

_“Tommy!”_ A deep voice yells through the deep forestry, echoing loudly amongst the bark and leaves. There’s an edge to it- similar to desperation. “Tommy, where are you, kid?” 

_Techno._

_Techno, Techno, Techno, Techno, Techno—_

He doesn't care how angry he was at him. He doesn't care about that right now. All he knows is that he’s _saved._ Someone had come for him. Someone was _here_ and they were _looking_ for him. It...oddly made Tommy’s heart swell, a teary smile making its way on his face before he swiftly shakes it off. He doesn't want Techno to see him get emotional. He needs to show he’s strong, _prove_ he’s strong. He isn't a baby. 

Tommy isn't even aware that he’s on his feet, moving towards the sound of his older brother’s voice until he sees him in front of his eyes. Techno had his phone out, furiously tapping something on it before his eyes darted up towards the youngest. Techno’s hair is let loose, and it seems messy, which seems odd to see Techno in, out of public. Usually, he only saves his messy, lazy looks for when he’s at home, but never outside. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, if Tommy squints, and his glasses are thrown off a bit on his face. He’s wearing one of his coats which looked to be put on impatiently, since he wasn't buttoned up, and the sleeves had wrinkles on them. The same could be said for his sneakers, which weren't even _tied._

The two brothers stare at each other in silence for a few moments. Tommy can see the shock in Techno’s face as he freezes, like he was expecting to find Tommy’s corpse, or something gruesome like that. Meanwhile, Tommy...Tommy isn't quite sure what he’s waiting around for. Was it also from surprise? From the fact that Techno had come? Maybe he had thought that Techno’s voice was another one of his delusions, a new piece of his imagination. But no, Techno was here right in front of him, and he looked...trashed, to put it bluntly. 

Tommy swears he can feel the presence of a ghostly hand rest atop his shoulder. Two gentle voices whisper at the same time, in perfect unison. _“Talk to him.”_

So, Tommy Innit Watson does what he does best. Talk.

“You look like fuckin’ shit, Techno. Ugly as fuck— has anyone ever told you that?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done! Tommy's been found! What did you guys think? As always, comments are really appreciated- they really do keep me motivated, but no pressure! Just even skimming over it is more than enough for me, haha! I seriously do appreciate each and everyone one you that interacts with this fic though— you guys really do make my day! 
> 
> I've been thinking though...originally, I've been meaning to make this fic shorter, but as of recently, I've been brainstorming an actual thought out plot, but it might be a bit long! I don't want to bore you all though. What do you guys think? Shorter story, or longer? 
> 
> Anywho— thank you guys so much for reading, once again! I really do appreciate all of the support- you guys have no idea how much it means to me. 
> 
> As always, stay hydrated, eat, rest, and make sure to take care of yourself! Because there are a lot of people who care about you, okay? Never for get that! You're loved. <3 
> 
> Until next time!


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